


Breaking In

by pbmolecules



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Baker!Gabe, Cas POV, Creepy house, Dean POV, Dean dealing with Bobby’s death, Dean has been in rehab in the past but is doing well now, Destiel - Freeform, Gabe’s POV, I promise happy endings!, Lawrence - Freeform, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam’s POV, Scars, Violence, Writer!Dean, badass cas, death of parents, nerdy dean, scary house, scenes with torture, side character deaths, teacher!Cas, teacher!sam, tragic past, traumatic events (2 chapters)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-11-28 21:06:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 119,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbmolecules/pseuds/pbmolecules
Summary: Every town has one.  That one creepy house that the kids run by because they’re afraid of what’s inside.Dean is home after years of a moderately successful writing career.  The spooky house on the corner that had inspired him to write long ago has as many demons inside as he does.  He finds the lonely, boarded windows inspiring for his next book.As only Dean would do, he breaks in for a closer look.  He finds a whole new story inside.





	1. Good Things

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural or its characters.

“Every town has one,” the man said in a voice intended to make shivers run down your spine.  “Every town has that one house that the kids run past because they’re afraid of what’s inside.  Tonight, on American Hauntings, we’re going to...”  
   
Dean turned away from the TV mounted in the corner of the airport terminal.  His thoughts drifted to the old house on the corner of Vine and Anderson Streets in Lawrence, where he grew up.  A huge Victorian with stained glass windows peeking through boards nailed over them.  When he was six, the house scared him so bad he would cross the street to avoid the massive oak door that he could swear beckoned him inside.  When he was ten, he would tell Sam scary stories about who supposedly used to live there.  He was not proud of the nightmares it gave his little brother.  But Sam would ask for more stories and Dean would readily make them up.  When he was sixteen, he and his friends would sneak inside and drink.  When he moved away at twenty-three, he really never gave the creepy place much thought.  Although, if he admitted it to himself, it was what gave him his first writing inspirations as a teenager.  Now, at twenty-nine, he was curious to see if the place had finally been torn down.  How long could a house keep standing when it was abandoned anyway?  
   
An airline attendant came over the loudspeaker, announcing his flight.  Scary stories and abandoned houses were completely insignificant compared to the fear that gnawed at him over getting on this friggin’ plane.  Now, THAT was terrifying.  
   
As he boarded, he flagged down an attendant.  “Two rum and Cokes, please.”  
   
“Yes, sir,” the attendant nodded, giving him an encouraging smile.  
   
Dean settled into his aisle seat in first class with a sigh, putting his head back and shutting his eyes.  The guy next to him was already checked out with headphones on.  The plane was still loading, and his hands were already clamped tight to his armrests.  He had to agree with his seatmate’s silent bury-your-head strategy.  Even flying first class didn’t fix everything.  He really didn’t want to use the pill in his pocket.  He’d be sluggish the rest of the day if he did.  He blew out a breath.  
   
“Mr. Smith?”  
   
Dean’s eyes opened.  A woman getting settled into the seat across the aisle wore the smile only a fan gets.  “Yes,” he tried to grin back, trying to push his anxiety to the back of his brain.  
   
“Oh!  I knew that was you!”  She grinned even harder, hurriedly dropping her purse to her seat, reaching a hand out to shake his.  
   
He grinned, shaking her hand.  He’d never get used to this.  Ever.    
   
“I LOVED your last book!”  
   
“Thank you,” he nodded, shifting in his seat a bit.  
   
The flight attendant, Garth, his name tag said, stepped between the two, giving the woman a polite but pointed look to give him some space.  
   
She bobbed, stealing one more glance at him before Garth stood completely in her way.  He gave Dean an understanding look.  It made him relax a bit more, along with the sight of two rum and Cokes.  He pulled his tray forward, making room for them.  Garth stood there, looking up and down the aisle casually, giving Dean a moment of peace as he took a long drink.  
   
Seeing Dean was a bit more settled, Garth gave him a grin before moving on.  Dean sat back again, sipping and waiting as the plane filled.  
   
“Mr. Smith,” the woman across the aisle said quietly, leaning toward him, “could I trouble you for an autograph?”  
   
Dean took the paper she handed him.  “What’s your name?”  
   
“Bela Talbot,” she smiled.  “B-e-l-a.”  
   
Dean pulled a pen from his blazer, writing a quick message and signing it.  He handed it back to her.  “There ya go.”  
   
“Thank you.  Are you working on a new book?” She asked, glancing at the attendant, making sure she was not going to get frowned at again.  
   
“I’m always writing something,” Dean said back.  
   
“Well, I’ll be looking forward to it.”  
   
“Thank you.”  He sipped his drink again and sat back, trying to clear his mind.  It was odd that his writing deadline was more comforting than the flight that was getting ready to start.  
   
He finished one drink and started on the second.  He downed it, seeing Garth headed his way as the plane began to shift from waiting mode to driving mode.  He handed Garth his glasses without a word, putting the tray up.  He listened as they gave their speech about life rings and oxygen masks, and whatever else they said, with a smile.  He tuned most of it out, noticing the guy next to him doing the same.  “Hate flying,” the guy muttered, catching his glance.  
   
“Me too,” Dean muttered back.  
   
The flight was painless for those that don’t mind flying.  For him and the guy next to him, it was long, but tolerable.    
   
When they could finally disembark, Bela gave him a flirty grin.  “Hope to see you at a book signing.”  She winked and he fought an embarrassed flush, giving her a little wave.  
   
As they exited, his equally miserable seat-mate sighed with relief as they stepped onto the solid floor of the airport.  Able to breathe again, and feeling much more himself, he patted the man on the shoulder.  “We made it, man!”  
   
“Yeah!  Now, if my baggage is here, it’ll be a really good day.”  
   
“Right?” Dean laughed.  
   
“Guess you’re headed to Lawrence?”  
   
Dean gave him a slightly suspicious look.  Now that he thought about it...there was something familiar about the man’s curly brown hair and blue eyes.  His gentle, nervous speech pattern.  “Wait...are you...Chuck?”  
   
“Yeah,” he admitted, ducking his head slightly.  “I recognized you on the plane, but I was afraid I might throw up on you if I tried to talk.”  He gave Dean an apologetic grin.  “I reeeally hate flying.”  
   
Dean snorted a laugh.  “Man, this is crazy!  You were a class ahead of me, but I remember the play you wrote.  It was one of my favorites.”  
   
Chuck gave him a bashful grin.  “Well, thank you.  It’s always nice to hear praise from a fellow writer.”  
   
“Yeah!  Sam told me you’re publishing under the name Carver Edlund.  Congrats, by the way.  I always keep tabs on your books.  Lawrence High grads and all.”  
   
“You do?” Chuck asked, giving him a truly shocked look.  
   
“I’m a fan,” Dean grinned.  
   
“Oh, well, thank you.  I’m quite a fan of your work as well.  I...keep tabs on you too.”  
   
They arrived at the baggage claim area, watching for their suitcases.  “So, you headed home then?  Sam said you live in town still.”  
   
“Yeah, yeah.” Chuck nodded.  “Visiting Sam?”  
   
“I am.  I’m surprising him.  He’s been trying to get me back home for years, but I’ve been...busy.”  
   
He took his suitcase from the conveyer belt.  When Chuck had his in hand, Dean started heading toward the rentals.    
   
“Dean,” Chuck asked hesitantly, “do you need a ride?”  
   
“I was gonna rent a car.”  
   
Chuck nodded.  “You could ride home with me if you want.”  He shrugged.  
   
Dean hesitated.  He glanced at Chuck’s easy grin.  “Yeah, okay.  I appreciate that.”  
   
He followed Chuck to Long-term Parking and loaded his bag in the trunk.  It was interesting that the two of them had run into each other like this.  They were Lawrence High’s success stories.  They both became successful writers.  While neither of them were millionaires, they were both doing well and still in the game.  Pretty good success for their little town.  They had had some great English teachers, to give the place its credit, and both were helped into good colleges by those teachers.    
   
Sam had said their marginal success had helped the school earn more funding as well, keeping the teachers happy, leading to a happier student body.  Dean had to admit, he felt pretty good about that.  At least, that’s the way Sam spun it.  He taught at the very school they had both graduated from.  Sam taught history, geography, and civics.  He loved his work.  He seemed happy, anyway.  
   
Dean had avoided coming home for years.  He always flew Sam to see him.  He had bounced around his first few years, living in New York, Texas, and Michigan for a while.  Seeking some space, he ended up in great town in South Dakota.    
   
He grinned at the familiar buildings as they entered Lawrence.  It was good to actually be home again.  He snorted a soft laugh that it had only taken six years until he really felt ready to be back here.  
   
Chuck pulled up in front of his childhood home.  Sam’s home now.  “I hope you have a great visit!” Chuck said.  “I bet Sam will be super excited.”  
   
“Yeah.  Let’s hope.  Hey, we should get together while I’m in town.  Trade war stories, ya know?”  
   
“Yeah!  That would be great!  I’m sure mine won’t be nearly as interesting, but, yeah.”  He grinned with a little nod to his head.  “Spent most of my writing career so far shut up in my own house in a bathrobe nursing whiskey.  But..ya know.”  
   
Dean gave him his own hesitant grin.  “It wasn’t all that was in the papers.”  
   
“Hey, no judgement here.  Who reads the papers anymore anyway?” He gave a little nervous chuckle and Dean took the out.  
   
They exchanged numbers and Dean got out of the car, taking his suitcase.  It was so weird to be here again.  The house looked better than the shabby memories that kicked around in the back of his mind.  The grass was cut, the bushes trimmed, the shutters replaced, and the siding was new.  The whole place looked so much better.  Dean was really glad Sam had made the place his own.  As he stepped up to the door, he was tempted to just open it up and walk in...but that was for before.  This was no longer his house.  He licked his lips and knocked on the door.  
   
He saw Sam’s outline before he got to the door, making him grin already.  Sam pulled the door open, prepared to say ‘hello’, but froze.  His jaw dropped.  
   
“DEAN!”  
   
“Hey, Sammy.”  
   
Dean didn’t even get inside.  Sam was through the door, hugging him like a freakin’ polar bear, lifting him from his feet.  
   
Dean, boots touching down to the porch again, stepped back, spreading his arms wide with a cocky grin.  “Surprise!” He said belatedly.  
   
“Oh my God!  Why are you here?  This is so crazy!”  Sam laughed, pulling him in for another hug.  
   
“Missed you, man!” Dean admitted, patting his back and squeezing him hard one more time.  While he had seen Sam every year, usually at Christmas and again over the summer, this felt even more real.  Sam at home.  Their old home.  It was nostalgic to say the least.  
   
“I missed you too!  Come in!” Sam went on, pulling him and his suitcase through the door.  “I can’t believe you’re here!”  
   
“Yeah!  Well, I know I’m overdue on paying you a visit.  So...here I am!”  
   
Sam’s face radiated joy.  He had not seen him this happy since he was young.   He turned in a complete circle, fumbling with the suitcase, making Dean laugh a little.  It reminded him of when Sam was little and would get excited and wound up.  
   
“Are you staying here?  How long are you staying?”  
   
The questions were all asked with wide brown eyes and a grin that melted Dean’s heart the way it always did when Sam was happy.  
   
“Yeah, I’m staying here!  Unless you sprouted a family I don’t know about.  And I’m not sure how long.  For a week or so.  I’m not really sure.”  
   
Sam froze in his tracks, paling.  “Is...is everything okay?  Are you okay?”  
   
“I’m good!  I just...thought it was time to come home.”  
   
Sam swallowed, looking relieved but still curious.  “Your old room is still a bedroom.”  
   
Dean shrugged.  “Sounds good.  What were you doing?  I didn’t interrupt a date or something, did I?”  
   
Sam laughed.  “No.  I was sitting in the kitchen grading papers.  I’m almost done.  We could go grab a burger when I’m done.”  
   
Dean bit his lip.  “How ‘bout pizza?  Delivery?”  
   
“Sure!  That works for me.”  
   
Dean slapped him on the back again, simply because he could reach out and touch him.  That was something he could so rarely do.  
   
Sam stopped at the touch, turning to him.  “I can’t believe you’re here!”  He hugged Dean again, making him laugh.  
   
“It’s good to be home.”  
   
   
*************************  
   
   
Sam went up to the spare room and pulled fresh sheets out of the closet.  It had been months since anyone stayed in here.  He grinned as he pulled the old sheets off.    
   
Sam had been completely shocked to see his brother standing at the door.  The sight of him brought back so many memories.  He had invited him to come, as he always did.  And even though he had stupidly asked him why he was here several times, he knew.  It was October 22nd.  The ten-year anniversary of the death of their parents was in three days.  
   
Ten years.  It seemed like a lifetime ago.  His parents died before they really got to know who he was.  Certainly, who Dean really was.  They would have been so proud of Dean.  For the most part, anyway.  Dad was always hard on him, but he kind of had to be.  Dean had been a trouble-maker.  And though they were always close as brothers, Dean could be a real dick sometimes.  
   
But their parents would have been proud of how Dean handled the whole thing.  The night.  The week after.  How he stayed in Lawrence and did college online to be home with Sam.  How seriously he took school.  How seriously he took Sam.  He stepped up.  He did what needed done and then some.  Sam knew it was ridiculous, but it always made him a bit sad to think about his punk of a brother and the one that took over.  It was like Dean lost a part of himself.  And even though it was all technically for the better, Sam missed that mischievous punk sometimes.  His brother’s behavior and decisions were a direct product of his mood.  And his mood, to the best of Sam’s descriptions, could be compared to the volume of a radio.  When he was happy, he was full blast.  Fun.  The life of the party.  But he could easily slide to too loud.  Too much.  Pushing things too far.  Earsplitting and dangerous until you and everyone around you were bleeding from the ears.  On the flip side, when he was down, his volume was low.  A whisper.  A sound hard to hear and hard to tease out of the surrounding noise.  He’d fade out and disappear.  
   
He smoothed the comforter over the freshly made bed.  Dean was home.  And he had let it go for now, but there was more to coming here than their parent’s ten-year anniversary.  He knew Dean better than anyone.  He could sense it.  Feel it.  Something was going on.  But he would wait to give him time to relax before he pushed for more.  Knowing Dean, he would have to drag it out of him.  He pulled out the spare towels that had been in the extra dresser and put them in the hall closet.  He shoved the summer shirts he had hung in the spare closet over to the side and deemed the room ready for Dean.    
   
No need to stress about it now.  For now, he was so happy to have him home, he couldn’t care less if he ever knew why.  Like a good song, loud or soft, it was so damn good to hear him.  He jogged down the steps, finding his brother staring at his bookshelves in the living room.  
   
“How long do you think you’ll be here?” Sam asked, moving his suitcase to the foot of the steps.  
   
“I don’t know.  A week.  I’m not sure.”  He pulled a book off the shelf, leafing through it.  It was one of Dad’s old World War II books.    
   
It was the same answer he had gotten earlier.  Again, Sam decided not to push it.  
   
“So...your room is all ready.”  
   
“Awesome.”  He put the book back on the shelf, turning to him.  “I know I showed up unannounced.  If you have anything going on, I can stay at a hotel.”  
   
“What?  No way!” Sam scoffed.  “You’re staying right here!  We can hang out and...do whatever you want!”  
   
Dean grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.  “It’s...really weird to be here.”  
   
Sam nodded.  Dean had gotten the house when their parents died.  Problem was, Dean was already away at college in Ohio.  He could still remember Dean sitting at the kitchen table the night after the funeral, staring at papers strewn all over.  He was on the phone to a friend from school and said, “If I don’t come back, I’m gonna lose my scholarships.  This fucking sucks.”  Sam had just stared at him.  Lost.  He was so lost back then.  “What will you do?” Sam had asked him, trying not to panic at the thought of Dean leaving him.  He was only 15 at the time.  Hearing him, Dean hung up the phone and stared at him for a full minute before saying, “Well, I’m staying here, Sam.  Something else will work out.”  And he did stay.  He got new scholarships and did his entire college education online.  At home.  Being Sam’s entire support system the whole time.    
   
When it came time for Sam’s chance to go to college, Dean made sure he had everything he needed to succeed.  Dean signed over the house to him as a high school graduation gift.  They both left that fall.  Sam to school and Dean to New York to start his life away from Lawrence as a writer.  They met back at the house for Sam’s first winter break.  After that, Dean had Sam flown to him for holidays and spent the summers wherever Dean was living, if he didn’t do a summer semester.  When Sam graduated from college, he landed a job at Lawrence High, moving back into the house for good.  In all that time, Dean had never come back.  
   
“How long has it been?” Sam asked, trying to remember the last time they were both here.  
   
“Christmas, six years ago.”  
   
“Wow.”  
   
“Yeah.  Ran into Chuck Shurley on the flight in.  He drove me here.  Home.  I didn’t even recognize him at first.”  
   
“Yeah?  He’s a close friend of my boyfriend’s.”  
   
Dean’s face lit up.  “Got a boyfriend, huh?”  
   
Sam sat on the couch.  “Yeah.  He moved into town last year.  He runs the bakery and coffee shop next to the school.”  
   
Dean arched an eyebrow, obviously wanting more.  Sam sighed.  “We’ve been dating for about six months now.”  
   
“Six months?  What’s the story?  Why have I never heard about him?  He got two heads or claws for hands, or what?”  
   
“No,” Sam laughed.  “I wasn’t really sure it was gonna go anywhere.  I mean, he’s not someone I would normally go for.”  
   
“He a bigger nerd than you?” Dean chuckled, sitting at the other end of the couch.  
   
“Hardly.  I met him at the grocery store.”  
   
“Seriously?”  
   
“Yeah!” Sam did his best to curb the details of how they actually met. No need for his brother to have ten pounds of ammo the minute he walked in the door. “We, uh...yeah. We met and went out and then went out again. And..we’re still...going out.”

 Dean gave him a curious look. Sam rushed on to get off the subject of his and Gabe’s ‘first date’. 

“It was a little off at first. We don’t have that much in common. But the chemistry is definitely there. And it turns out that I work with his brother. He’s a teacher too. So, yeah. It’s been good! Anyway, we started dating and...I thought it was like a crazy phase.  I kinda thought it was all physical.  But...I don’t know.  We’ve been serious now for a few months.”

Dean nodded.  “Is he taller than me?”  
   
“No,” Sam laughed.    
   
Dean grinned.  “I like him a little better already.”  
   
“You’re so weird,” Sam laughed.  Dean. Always the big brother.  
   
“So, he runs a bakery?” Dean asked, looking at him expectantly.  
   
Sam ran a hand through his hair.  “Yeah.  He owns it.  It’s doing really well too.  He started just him and his cousin.  Now he has like six people on staff.”  The more he told Dean about him, the more he worried Dean would try to find him.  But gone were their young high school and college days.  Surely Dean wouldn’t try anything now.  He frowned at just how stupid that thought was.  Shit.  He had just totally set Gabe up to be Deaned.    
   
“Don’t go see him.”  
   
Dean grinned.  “Why not?”  
   
“Because.  Meet him like a normal person.  Don’t show up at the bakery and act like a jerk.”  
   
Dean scoffed.  “Why not?  I have every right.”  
   
Sam let his head drop back against the sofa.  “Dean...”  
   
“So, how’s school going?  I can’t believe you teach where we went.  It’s so weird!”  
   
Sam grinned.  His first week had definitely been weird.  It was strange to suddenly be ‘Mr. Winchester’.  He was allowed in ‘Staff Only’ rooms and had keys that got him into doors marked ‘faculty’.  That was weird.  He sat at the big desk in the front of the room instead of the tiny uncomfortable sea of desks facing him.  Yep, it had been weird.  But now the faculty lounge was a comfortable place he could escape.  He loved his classroom, adorned with maps and posters he had chosen.  The principal was his boss and he liked her too.  And while he knew her first name, he still called her Mrs. Mosley, out of respect.  
   
“So, what’s this guy’s name?” Dean asked, barely hiding a pleased grin.  
   
“Ya know what, I’m not tellin’ you.  You’ll just look him up and try to mess with him.”  
   
“Sam.  You act like I’m twenty.  Give me a little credit.”  
   
“I’m not buyin’ it.  I wouldn’t tell you if you were sixty.”  
   
“Huh!”  Dean laughed.  “Fine.”  
   
“Jerk,” Sam grinned.  
   
“Bitch,” Dean grinned wider.  “What’s his name again?”  
   
Sam rolled his eyes.  “I’ll let you know when I introduce you.”  
   
Dean shook his head but took the retort anyway.  “It’s like you don’t trust me, Sammy.”  
   
“Remember the time my date came to the door and you and Benny re-enacted the scene from Bad Boys?   He brought me home an hour early and we never went out again!”  
   
Dean laughed.    
   
“How is Benny?” Sam asked.  The guy had been a constant around their house when he was in high school.  When Dean moved to Michigan, Benny left for New Orleans, where he had family.  
   
“Good.  I talk to him about once a week.  I told him I was coming to visit.  He said he might try to come.”  
   
Sam nodded.  “Who else knew?”  He tried not to sound offended, but it annoyed him that Benny knew and he didn’t.  
   
“Nobody, Samantha.  I wanted to surprise you, remember?”  
   
Sam nodded.  “Yeah, yeah.  Guess I’ll try to put in for a few days off.”  
   
Dean nodded, screwing his mouth up like he was going to say something, but didn’t.  Sam let it go.  They had a few days.  If anyone could drag crap out of Dean, it was him.  
   
“Well, I’m beat.  Flying damn near kills me.  So, I’m gonna head to bed.”  
   
They both stood up.  Sam locked the front door and turned some lights off.  “I gotta work tomorrow but help yourself to anything in the house.  I get home around 3:30.”  
   
They went up the steps.  “Sounds good.  I’ll probably just hang around the house and be lazy.”  
   
Sam hesitated before going into his room.  “I’m glad you’re here, Dean.  Really glad.”  
   
Dean gave him a quiet grin.  “Me too.”  
   
   
 


	2. My Brother’s Teaser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s curiosity meets Gabriel’s tenacity.

Chapter 2:  My Brother’s Teaser  
   
   
Gabriel wiped the top shelf of the counter off, freeing it of coffee rings and crumbs.  The morning slam was over.  The ‘schoolies’ as he called them, were sated for another day.  It had slowed down now to a steady stream of morning traffic.  
   
“Alfie!  You’re gonna be late for school!” He shouted, seeing the kid still stacking cups.  
   
“I’m going!” The teen shouted, darting out the side door, apron still on.  
   
“Ya think he wears that apron all day at school?” Gabe smirked.  
   
Portia, his daily side-kick, smirked as well.  “I’m sure when he gets stuffed into a locker, he’ll notice he still has it on.”  
   
They both chuckled, continuing their morning hustle.  
   
“Balthazar!” Gabe yelled into the kitchen.  
   
“You bellowed?” The blonde huffed, hands on hips.  
   
“We need more apple tarts.”  
   
“Coming.”  He sauntered toward the cooling racks to put some fresh ones on a tray.  
   
Turning back to the counter, he shoved all his bitchy thoughts mostly down.  “Who’s next?”  
   
A guy raised two fingers, licking his lips with a grin.  “Big and black.  And one of those fresh apple whatevers.”  
   
“What?” Gabe laughed, heading to the coffee pot.  “No tongue-twister titles or shots or dashes or foaming something or other in your coffee?”  
   
“Just the original.”  
   
Gabe popped a lid on the top.  “Some might call that basic.  Or boring.”  
   
“They’d be pretentious and high maintenance.”  
   
Gabe laughed again, sitting the large black coffee on the counter.  “Or interesting and creative.”  
   
The guy smirked at him.  “I doubt it.”  
   
“I can’t decide if I like you or you’re a dick.”  
   
The guys brows raised, looking in no way offended.  Their banter was interrupted by the man damn near drooling as a tray of apple tarts was carried out by Balthazar.  
   
“Now, that’s impressive and worth bragging about!”  
   
Balthazar beamed a grin, sliding the tray into the window.  “I suggest you try one.  Two, perhaps.”  He propped an elbow on the counter, giving him an obviously flirty grin.  “Unless you’d like to...” he frowned suddenly, as if he recognized him.  He covered fairly quickly, grinning wide.  “They really are delicious.”  
   
“Sold,” the guy grinned, looking back at Gabe.  “I’ll take two.”  
   
Gabe elbowed Balthazar out of his way, reminding himself to ask what the hell that was all about later.  He bagged two tarts and took the guys ten-dollar bill.  
   
“Keep the change, grumpy.”  
   
Gabe huffed as the guy walked off with his goods.  He went to the next customer but noticed a few minutes later that the guy had taken a seat at a table.  Who was this guy?  There was something familiar about him.  
   
   
The morning crowd slowed to a trickle by 9:45. Soon, ‘the grandpas’ would be in to sit around and bullshit the morning away, talking about the good ole days and their lawns.  
   
He took the lull in traffic to leave Portia on her own to go back to the kitchen.  Balthazar was whistling and elbow deep in dough.  
   
If the man wasn’t his cousin (and business partner), he’d be out on his ass.  He was annoyingly chipper and his British accent drove him nuts.  The way women swooned if he so much as uttered a lousy good morning, drove him crazy.  But the guy made damn good pastries.  
   
“You know Mr. Personality out there?”  
   
Balthazar’s blue eyes twinkled as they always did when he knew something Gabe didn’t.  “Why, are you referring to Dean Smith?  The writer?  The apple tart loving fan of mine?”  
   
Gabe’s mouth dried like the Sahara.  “Dean Smith?  The writer?”  
   
“I do believe so, yes.  He’s from this one-horse town, is he not?”  
   
Gabe pursed his lips.  He knew who Dean Smith was.  He knew who he really was.  That would be Dean Winchester.  His boyfriend’s older brother.  “Son of a bitch.”  
   
He went to his office, grabbing his phone off his desk.  He had three messages and a missed call from Sam.  
   
Sam - Good morning!  Hey, I wanted to let you know my brother is in town.  He showed up last night unexpectedly.  Hopefully he won’t try to come in and bug you.  I didn’t tell him who you are.  Just that my new boyfriend owns the bakery.  Anyway, have a good morning!  
   
Sam - Looked packed in there this morning.  Call me at lunch!  
   
Sam - My brother just sent me a picture inside The Cup.  I am so sorry.  I hope he isn’t causing too much trouble.  
   
Gabe smirked.  Dean.  He’d heard a million stories.  He loved hearing stories about Dean.  Except the ones where Sam was the butt of the joke or the one being messed with.  Shit.  Even those he had to laugh at sometimes.  So, big brother thought he could mess with him, huh?  He had no idea who he was messing with.  
   
He sent Sam a quick text.    
   
Gabe - So busy I guess I missed him.  Talk to you at lunch.  
   
He slid his phone into his pocket and headed into the kitchen.  “Balthazar, today is your lucky day.”  
   
“I’m sure,” he said dryly, forming the delicate dough into balls.  
   
   
******************************************  
   
   
Dean had to admit, he liked the place.  The bakery was a small brick building beside the high school.  There were small tables along the walls with a wide aisle up the center where the line formed.  The counter at the back of the store was a huge, glass case full of baked goods.  There were bins with fresh fruits, candy, and breakfast bars.  It was perfect to grab breakfast and run.  
   
Dean finished his apple tarts.  They were delicious.  The coffee was good too.  He sat back, sipping on it as the baker with the accent came out of the kitchen.  He had a magazine in his hand and sat down at the table next to him.  He was on his cell phone, taking what looked like a break.  
   
“Darling, I know this is your free period, but I’m not coming to the school,” he said into the phone, sitting with his back to Dean.  “You know it makes me nervous to have sex in the supply closet on school grounds!  I know it’s naughty, but I’m too worried about getting caught!”  
   
Dean choked on his coffee.  Of the two men working here, he pegged the apple tart slinging baker for the one Sam was dating.  Sam always was a sucker for a British accent, like every other red-blooded American he knew.  But what the man had said, shocked him.  He coughed again.  
   
“You puke it, you mop it,” grumpy smirked, tossing him a few napkins as he walked by.  
   
Dean mopped up himself and the table.  Sam was crazy for having sex at school.  What was he thinking?  He could lose his job!  
   
“Yes, yes,” the blonde baker cooed into the phone in a hushed whisper.  “I’m wearing my plug like a good boy.  Are you going to make me cream the sofa again?”  
   
Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head.  He had sat on Sam’s couch a lot last night.  He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering what the hell he had touched!  
   
“You’re my big, shiny, banana man,” the guy cooed.  
   
“Oh God!” Dean jumped up from his seat, wanting to scrub out his brain, bleach it, and scrub it again!  Pet names!  Really!  Plugs!  He threw his trash away and darted out the door, crossing the street to avoid being as close to the high school as he already was.  Visions of Sam fucking the baker on the couch were enough to keep him away from the house forever.  
   
Sam had said something about this guy being not his typical type.  And that it had started out really physical.  “Jesus, Sam,” he muttered aloud, not wanting to, but wondering what kind of kinky shit his brother was into.  
   
He distracted himself with thoughts about the old neighborhood.  He turned up Vine Street, which ended in a T intersection in front of the High School.  He had walked these blocks hundreds of times.  The sidewalks were pleasantly covered with a scattering of fall leaves.  He waved to a man putting his mail out, but kept walking, not really wanting to get dragged into any conversation.  He went another block before stopping in front of the old, creepy Victorian on the corner.  It was the one he had thought of just yesterday.  ‘Every town has one,’ the man had said.  Well, here was Lawrence’s.    
   
The iron gate at the sidewalk still looked rusted into place, partially open to the rough, uprooted sidewalk that led to the steep porch steps and the huge...huh.  He frowned, staring at the front doors.  There used to be huge, wooden doors that were boarded closed.  Now, there was a set of cranberry red doors that looked new with shiny new door knobs.  He kept walking, noticing that not all the windows were boarded up anymore.  Some were, but there were several new windows installed.  The yard still looked gnarly and over-grown with bushes and trees that stretched from the house all the way over to shade the sidewalk.  
   
It looked...less creepy.  
   
As he turned the corner, heading down Anderson Street, walking along the side of the house, he froze again.  In one of the upstairs windows, he noticed a figure move away from the window.  
Chills shot down his spine so hard his feet tingled.  He turned away quickly and started walking again, huddling deeper into his jacket.  Was someone actually living there?  It still looked...he glanced back, mostly abandoned.  He walked a little quicker up Anderson Street, going the three blocks and turning into Sam’s house.  
   
He went inside, locking the door.  The place still gave him chills.  Inspired, he dug his laptop out of his bag and almost sat on the couch.  
   
Almost.  
   
He headed up to his old room, kicking back on the bed to get some thoughts down before they faded.  
   
He conjured the memory of the place in his mind.  Three and half stories, narrow and tall, steep steps that led directly to the double doors on the front porch.  Gaping, boarded windows.  One large window to the left of the front doors, two tall ones to the right.  Three windows across the second floor, a dormer on the third floor and a turret with windows a bit higher than that.  That was what could be seen from the front.  And it was gray, no...green.  Or was it a grayish blue?  He frowned in thought.  What color was it, really?  All he could picture was dull, lifeless wood slat siding that was beyond dirty thirty years ago.  He was baffled that as many times as he had looked at the house, he could not truly remember what color it was.  
He had been inside the place as well.  It had been years ago, when he was a ridiculous teenager, he and Benny had dared their friends (and each other) to stay there one night.  They drank there several times.  They had snuck into the back, through a broken doorway in the kitchen.  They had never ventured further than the first floor, and they never stayed long.  It was too damn creepy in there for any of them.  But he could still remember the kitchen, with its dusty counters full of strange things and half-fallen cupboards.  The two large rooms at the front, one with a hole in the floor by the big window in the front.  The floors had threadbare carpets on them, covering dark hardwood, but he could not remember much about the walls or fixtures.  The stairs were eerie, curving at the top to show a railing that went around two sides.  But the broken steps had been enough to keep them out of the upper floors, leaving the upstairs a mystery.  
   
The whole thing piqued his curiosity all over again.  
   
He exited out of the random stream of thoughts and memories he was typing on the new document he had started, pulling up the story he was working on.  His main characters needed work.  The chick was too whiny.  And the guy was lack-luster.  He went back to his research pages and stewed on them.  This story was about some campers encountering a creature in the woods.  He needed to go back and beef up all his characters.  Lost in thought and work, he was shocked when he heard the front door unlock hours later.  Sam was home.  
   
“Dean?” He called, coming up the steps.  
   
“In here,” Dean yelled back.  
   
Sam stepped into the room.  “Hey!  How was your day?”  
   
“Good.”  He saved his progress and sat the laptop aside.  “It went really fast, actually.”  
   
“I saw you went to the bakery.’  
   
Dean grimaced.  “Yeah.  Food’s good.  The coffee was good.  But dude...”  
   
Sam stared at him.  
   
“You, uh, I figured out which one is your boyfriend.”  
   
Sam nodded.  “Please tell me you didn’t give him a hard time.”  
   
“No!”  Dean looked away, unable to really go there.  “Nope.  Just...got breakfast.”  
   
Sam nodded, leaving the room.  “I have a ton of papers to grade, but we can still do dinner.”  
   
Dean’s stomach growled.  “Yeah.  That’d be good.  I forgot to eat lunch.”  
   
Sam came back, sporting a sweatshirt and jeans.  “You forgot to eat lunch?  Are you dying?”    
   
Dean smirked, scooting off the bed.  “I was working.”  
   
“You still working on the wendigo book?”  
   
“Yep.  It’s comin’ slow.  It’s the characters.  I just can’t peg them yet.”  
   
The pair headed down the steps for dinner.  They threw together a quick meal.  Sam started grading papers while Dean did the dishes.  
   
When he was done, he took the seat at the opposite end of the table, opening his laptop again.  Maybe Lawrence could inspire him.  “I wonder how Mr. Murphy is doing?” He said aloud, thinking back on his English classes in high school and how he had been inspired to write.  
   
“He’s retired and still lives on Elm Street with his wife,” Sam said, his eyes never leaving his work.  
   
“I should stop by and see him.”  
   
“Yeah,” Sam said off-handed.  “He always asks about you when I see him.”  
   
Dean smiled.  Mr. Murphy had been a huge part of Dean becoming a writer.  While he was in college classes online, he would visit him and bounce ideas around with him.    
   
It had been a rough time in his life.  Just as he had adjusted to college life, and life away from Lawrence, everything fell through.  His parents died and Sam needed family.  He dropped out of school in Ohio, losing all those exciting scholarships Mr. Murphy had helped him get.  He stayed home.  There was no alternative.  Sam was still young.  And he wasn’t leaving him.  So, Mr. Murphy helped him again.  But all the fun he was having, the partying, the being grown up (sort of) came to a crashing halt.  Sam needed a responsible adult.  So Dean became one.  He’d made up for it, leaving as soon as Sam left for school, living in several places across the states, sowing his wild oats a few years later than he thought he would, drinking like an idiot and hating himself for it.  Yep, he had done all that.  And while he was no King, Koontz, or Clancy, he had gotten published and made the best seller list twice.  His book tours had been unprecedented, as far as the book world was concerned.  He hoped Mr. Murphy hadn’t caught wind of all the internet had to say about him.  And hey, he had come home.  He had his shit together for the moment.  
   
For the most part.  
   
They passed the evening in companionable silence.  When Sam was done grading papers, he stretched and started to pack up his bag.  “I’m beat.”  
   
Dean closed his laptop, still struggling with his female side-character.   He was glad to give it a rest for the night.  “So, you don’t see your boyfriend every day?”  
   
Sam kept busy, sorting and packing his papers.  “Sometimes.  I did see him at school today.  Briefly.  But for the most part, no.  He’s working a lot.”  
   
Dean stared at his brother.  He saw him at school?  Was he crazy?  He felt torn with the need to stop his brother from doing something so career-ruining, to acting like he had never heard his boyfriend talking about having sex in a school.  
   
He chose to not say anything. Yet.  He needed more information before he started freaking out.  
   
   
***************************************  
   
   
“Well, well, look who’s moved to the grandpa crowd!” Gabe grinned.  He’d been hoping Dean would come back today.  
   
“Grandpa crowd?”  He asked, looking confused.  
   
“Yeah, basically, our day can be sorted into crowds.  Schoolies (staff and students before school who are in major need and will mocha-choca bitch if interrupted in their flight pattern), the morning workforce that just want in and out with fuel (being caffeine and sugar), and then the grandpas come in to drink their small black coffees and chat about their heydays.  Then we scrape ourselves off the floor and clean.”  Gabe grinned.  
   
Dean laughed.  “I don’t know if I like the sounds of that.  I definitely seem to be moving into grandpa status.”  
   
“Well, old man, what will it be?”  Gabe watched as Dean’s eyes scanned the window to their baked goods.  
   
“Large black and...” he gave the pastries a disdainful look.  
   
Gabe moved over to pour the coffee.  “Didn’t like your apple tarts?”  
   
Dean shrugged.  “They were good.  I just...” he glanced toward the kitchen.  “That British guy make all these?”  
   
Gabe stifled a laugh.  Apparently their little joke went over VERY well!  “He sure did.”  
   
Dean made a disgruntled noise.  “I think the guy is banging my brother and...I don’t know, I don’t know if I really wanna eat something when I know where his hands have been.”  
   
Gabe did his best to nod along.  “Lucky for you, the bakery is off limits.  No hanky-panky in the kitchen.”  He waggled his eyebrows for good measure.  “Have a cookie.  Or I have some day-old pie.”  
   
“Pie?”  
   
Oh, that got his attention.  He might end up feeling really bad for fucking with this guy.  He might end up liking him too much.  “I make the cookies and pies.”  
   
Dean’s shoulders relaxed.  “Awesome.  Got any apple, pecan, or cherry?  Any of those will work.”  
   
“Morning pie.  Now that’s the kind of customer I can appreciate!”  Gabe went back to the kitchen to get a piece of apple pie from the fridge.    
   
“Who’s eating pie at 9:45 in the morning?” Balthazar asked indignantly.  
   
“One Dean Winchester,” Gabe grinned.  “He doesn’t trust where the British baker’s hands have been.  Guess he doesn’t like the thought of his food being prepared by someone wearing a plug.”  
   
Balthazar scoffed.  “You are planning on amending this mess, aren’t you?”  
   
Gabe chuckled as he warmed up the slice of pie.  “It’ll amend itself eventually.”  
   
“You really are a bunch of hairless apes.”  
   
“As far as biology class serves me, hairless apes fuck just as fervently as we do, so keep ‘em comin’, Balth.”  
   
Balthazar shook his head with annoyance.    
   
Gabe headed back out to the shop, warm pie in hand and grin firmly in place.  “One slice of apple pie.”    
   
“Nice!” Dean almost groaned.  
   
Balthazar came through the kitchen door right on cue.  “Gabriel, I need off tomorrow.  It’s our seven-month anniversary and we plan to spend the day naked and covered in whip cream.  Oh, and you’re out of whip cream.”  
   
Dean looked horror struck.  
   
Gabe popped a sucker in his mouth to watch Dean squirm in his boots.  He wished Sam were here to appreciate his hard work.  
   
Just as Gabe bit down on his lollipop of triumph, Dean speared him with a look.  “YOU are out of whip cream?  Are YOU the owner?”  
   
Hmm.  Collect the prize realization now?  Or try to hoodwink him some more?  Gabe chuckled knowing he was an instant gratification kind of guy.  “Helllllllooooo, owner,” he grinned, pointing at himself with a circling flourish.  
   
Dean stepped back from the counter, looking quite disgusted all around.  “You’re the one banging my brother?”  
   
“So guilty,” Gabe chuckled with an ornery grin.  
   
“Was this all you?  Some trick to mess with me?”  
   
Gabe grinned and shrugged, loving his own mastermind.  
   
“I’M the one who’s supposed to be messing with YOU!” Dean scoffed, looking quite put out.  
   
“Sooo, now that you know where MY hands have been...you still want your pie?”  
   
“Cha!” Dean spat, a war of emotions playing across his face.  “Nnnn” he glanced at the pie.  “Nnnyes.  Dammit.”  
   
Gabe roared with laughter.  “Dig in, Dean-O!”  
   
Dean took the little plate and his coffee with attitude.  “Fine.  But I’m not paying for it.  You can pay my shrink bill for the mental damages you just caused too.”  
   
Gabe laughed the whole time Dean made his way to a table to sit down.  “Too easy, Winchester!  Too easy!”  
   
Dean shook his head, ignoring him for the time being.    
   
“Life is so good,” Gabe chortled.  He pulled his phone out to text Sam.  
   
Gabe:  the jig is up!  He busted me on semantics.  Freaking writers.  It was a thing of beauty though!  Wish you could have seen his face!  I got him good for ya, Samalicious!  
   
Sam:  Are you done?  Can we all act like civilized adults now?  
   
Gabe:  don’t take your second-period-blues out on me, love.  You know you love my sass!  
   
Sam:  :)  
   
Gabe:  want me to swing over there and play naughty student??  I’ve been dying to do that!  
   
Sam:  Gabe.  No.  
   
Gabe put his phone away with a chuckle.  He loved nothing more than getting Sam all flustered.  It was so easy too.  And no, that didn’t make things too easy.  It just made them too damn good to be true.  
   
Add big brother Dean to the torture list, and this was really turning into some fun.  
   
   
**************************************************  
   
   
Dean walked home, enjoying the brisk nip to the morning air.  He left Gabe’s shop when three grandpas got in a debate over politics.  All three of them were harshly misinformed, not even arguing points that mattered.  
   
So, Gabriel was dating his brother.  He smirked every time he thought about the little shit pulling one over on him.  It certainly put him in a category of his own, as far as guys dating his brother went.  Sam was right, Gabe was not his typical type.  He usually went for nerdy, quiet types.  Gabe did not seem to fit either one of those.  Maybe he was onto something.  The jury was still out, as far as Dean’s approval, but things were looking oddly optimistic for the baker.  
   
He slowed as he approached the Victorian on Vine street.  He pushed his initial creep factor away, looking for more details.  
   
The wrought iron fencing was old, rusty in spots, dented and leaning in others.  The gate perched halfway open with a spot of rust on the concrete sidewalk where it seemed to have lodged itself a hundred years ago.  The sidewalk was covered with leaves, but he knew there were some pavers sitting up at an angle, pushed there by tree roots from the huge maple tree in the front yard.  The limbs of the tree bowed out in all directions, as if it were holding the side of the house and reaching over the sidewalk toward the power lines.  Beautiful orange, red, and yellow leaves still clung to the branches, while plenty more littered the ground.  
   
The sidewalk ended at a steep set of seven wide steps that went straight to a porch and a set of huge double doors, cranberry in color.  They were definitely new to the house, but on closer inspection, they were not new construction.  They fit the house perfectly, with stained glass windows in each door that were thick and dark enough to not allow any details of the inside to be seen.  The house itself was green.  Or gray.  It was so weathered, that he was pretty sure it had been a mint green at one point in time.  The flaking faded wood siding looked more gray now though.  
   
The house stretched up tall and narrow with the stately grace of an aged hawk.  It had a looming quality that followed you, like someone wise and too old to bother moving, but their eyes followed you perceptively.  
   
He had remembered the windows correctly, three on the main floor, three across the second floor, and two dormer windows that did not appear to be quite the same level on the third floor.  Maybe there was a half flight of steps up there.  He wondered what it looked like inside.  
   
He stepped just inside the gate, trying to peer into the windows more closely.  The large downstairs window was new.  He still could not make out what was on the inside though.  The roof of the house, which came down in little, steep slopes, was gray and faded, definitely needing repair.  He wondered who owned the place.  Who had replaced a few things and left it again?  
   
He pulled his phone out, taking a picture of the front of it.  He really should not be on the property, or openly gawking at it.  
   
He went back out to the sidewalk when he caught a wisp of movement on the third floor.  It was faint enough that he wondered if he had seen it at all.  Chills on his arms that were not from the fall breeze, made him hurry along his way.  He glanced at the side of the house, fairly hidden with overgrown bushes, spying movement on the third floor again.  His steps faltered as he strained to stare up at it again, but he quickly moved on, shivering in his jacket.  
   
Was that a person?  A ghost?  It was so quick!  Maybe he was just imagining it.  He blinked up at them again, seeing nothing out of the norm.  
   
   
Back at Sam’s, he grabbed his laptop to jot down some more details of the house.  He had written stories about the house before.  Creative writing assignments that were probably thrown away when he cleaned out his locker at the end of his senior year of high school.  They were underdeveloped pieces of novice work that when dusted off, shone like a new penny.  
   
He was inspired.  
   
He opened a new document and let some ideas flow.  A rough overlay of the events of a pair of brothers.  This was good.  He delved into it with a fervor that had his fingers flying, his eyes wide and unblinking on the screen, and totally lost to the world around him.  
   
He tore his eyes from the screen when he found Sam was standing next to him with an expectant look.  
    
“Sam!” He said, voice hoarse with disuse and his mind still mid-story.  
   
“Dude!  I said hi!  I’ve been here for twenty minutes, talking to you!”  Sam laughed, but glanced at the screen.  “You must be in deep!”  
   
“Yeah,” Dean nodded, closing his tired, dry eyes and stretching back in the chair.  
   
“I called you three times,” Sam said, picking up Dean’s phone where it lay untouched on the table.  He turned it to Dean.  Three missed calls.  
   
“Wow.  I never even heard it ring.”  
   
Sam sat it back down, pulling out a chair to sit.  “I left a message.  Gabe is coming over for dinner.  Figured you two could actually meet instead of just confuse and torture each other.”  
   
Dean laughed.  “That little shit got me good.”  He looked at Sam more closely.  “How serious are you two?”  
   
Sam grinned softly.  “Pretty serious, actually.  Exclusive.  He’s over here a lot.  It, uh...I don’t know.  It might be pretty serious.”  
   
Dean nodded with an impressed expression.  “He’s definitely...different.”  
   
Sam sat back with an easy, relaxed grin.  “I know.  I think that’s what makes it work.  He makes me laugh.  And he’s very open with his feelings.  It’s kinda refreshing.”  
   
Dean crossed his arms over his chest, sitting back.  That was probably a stab at his lack of sharing much of anything.  And he deserved it.  “I’m glad for you.  So, when is he coming over?”  
   
“He’ll be here soon.  I was trying to give you a heads up, but you were totally absorbed.”  
   
Dean shrugged, closing the laptop.  “Yeah.  I got a good thing going here.   A new story.  Problem is, my camping story with the wendigo is dragging.  And that’s the one with the deadline.  Now I’m sucked into this one and ...” he trailed off, lost in thoughts of the two brothers uncovering a hidden door in the house.  
   
He opened the laptop again, noting another idea.  
   
He was vaguely aware of Sam starting to make dinner.  When Gabe came in, knocking but not waiting for anyone to answer, he finally closed his laptop.  
   
“Dean-O!” Gabe grinned.  
   
“Gabriel.” He gave the guy a perfunctory nod.  
   
“Hey,” Sam grinned warmly, turning from the stove to hug Gabe and kiss him chastely.  
   
Dean did not miss the familiar way Gabe ran a hand down his back, resting it on the tiny lip Sam’s jeans provided.  
   
As they talked quietly to each other, Dean went upstairs to plug his dying laptop in.  He hated to break his writing streak, but he had learned to take breaks.  And he wanted to get to know this Gabe guy a little better.


	3. At A Glance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time to meet Cas!
> 
> And what a meeting it is.

Chapter 3:  At A Glance  
   
   
Castiel woke to the familiar, unsettling whistling sound that seemed ever present in his house.  He sighed.  He had hoped that replacing the worst of the windows would stop the sound.  
   
He stretched and snuggled back down into his blankets, feeling the cold air outside of his cocoon, withdrawing from it.    
   
He finally got up, pulling a sweatshirt on over his t-shirt to layer up for the day.  He turned the weak space heater off, for all the good it did, and shuffled into the bathroom.  The first thing he had done to the house was have the plumbing redone.  The clay pipes had burst long before, and the copper piping had been stripped by thieves years ago.  It had been expensive and time consuming, dipping into his budget more than he wished.  After that, he replaced the four doors that entered the home.  The front doors, the back door, and the basement door.  They were all refurbished, sturdy doors that locked securely.  He had replaced four broken windows and had inspected the others, noting them all as drafty and less than efficient, but suitable to last another winter.  Some of them were still boarded over, much to his chagrin.  He feared the remaining whistle was being produced by the roof.  That had to wait until next year as well.  The rest of his budget for the year was going into new flooring in three sections of the house, stairs, electricity, and the furnace.  
   
Thankfully, the top floors had only been looted for pipes and had weather damage in one of the bedrooms.  Otherwise, it was fairly untouched.  The main floor was where all the vandalism took place.  The broken stairs had most likely kept people out of it.  There had been a ratty looking mattress in one of the bedrooms, which he promptly burned.  The downstairs proved much more difficult.    
   
The walls had been spray painted with crude pictures, initials, and names.  He had cleared out a dumpster full of trash, mostly beer cans, food containers, and leaves.  He had also gutted the downstairs bathroom down to the studs.  He had kept the abused kitchen cabinets for now, hoping he could repair them.  
   
After washing his face and brushing his teeth, letting his cold hands linger in the warm water to ease the chill in his fingers, he felt fairly human.  He went downstairs, grinning at the warm pot of coffee awaiting him.  Gabriel had given him one of the old coffee pots with lots of settings and features.  He poured creamer into a mug and filled it with coffee, getting just the right shade of tan.  Leaning against the counter, he mentally went over all he had to do today.  Tonight was trash night, so he was going to finish peeling wallpaper off the front bedroom on the second floor, he had nicknamed the duck room.  The duck wallpaper was almost gone though.  
   
Heading upstairs to the second floor, he shivered at the chill in the room.  He checked the windows again, making sure he had them as shut as possible.  
   
He froze in place when he saw a man standing in front of his house, staring at it.  He stepped back, hugging his coffee to his chest.  What was the guy doing?  He frowned, stepping into the hall to lean against the wall, out of sight.  He heard the whistle again and headed up to the third floor.  His favorite floor.  The stairs went up in a U with a big stained-glass window at the landing.  The mosaic of colored glass made a picture of a sunrise.  It was missing five pieces, which he had carefully covered until he could order them.    
   
The third floor was sunny, with large windows letting in the sun all day long.  Standing at the front window, listening for the whistle, he saw the man had stepped into the front yard.  A hard chill ran down his spine.  
   
He didn’t look like a salesman.  He was wearing jeans and a leather jacket.  His light brown hair ruffled in the wind as he stared intently at the house.  
   
What was he doing here?  He frowned when the man pulled a phone out and took a picture.  
   
“What the hell?” He mumbled.  He stepped back, considering going down to talk to him, but not really wanting to deal with any more than he already had on his plate for the day.  He left the cozy front room, going down the short hall, up the half flight of steps that lead to the mother-in-law-suite section of the house.  A large room that ran the length of the side of the house, with a tiny sink and counter at one end.  Two large windows kept this room light as well.  He saw the man had left his yard and now walked along the sidewalk along Anderson Street, still staring at the house.  Chills ran up his arms as he wondered if the man was looking for a way in.  Perhaps he would come back at night and try to break in!  Just as the guy looked up to meet Castiel’s eyes, he turned and headed down the stairs, all the way to the back door on the main floor.  He was going to deal with this head on.  He went out the back door, through the thick of growth where remnants of a driveway were, and onto the sidewalk on Anderson Street.  The sidewalk was clear.  Both directions.  Where the hell had he gone?  
   
Sighing, Castiel went back inside, locking the back door.  He felt paranoid, jumping at noises the house made.  By the time the flooring contractor came, he had shaken off the morning scare and could focus on the crater that was his living room floor.  Today, the new subfloor was going in.  He had high hopes that closing off the basement would finally relieve the house of a major draft, dampness, and the bone chilling temperature that blew up through it.  
   
   
***************************************  
   
   
Gabe and Dean survived dinner with equal banter that Sam only had to interrupt twice.  He liked Dean.  And that was good, because he was planning on being around for the foreseeable future.  Just looking over at Sam and his warm grin, his chocolatey brown eyes, and knowing how that big hand wrapped around his felt...he wasn’t going anywhere.  The pair exchanged a grin, promising more for later just with that small shared moment.  
   
He took his dishes to clean up and his phone vibrated in his pocket.  He pulled it out, seeing it was his brother again.  He had ignored the first two calls today because he was busy, so he swiped the screen to answer.  
   
“Hey, Cassie.”  
   
“Gabriel.  Finally.  I wanted to tell you that I officially own a living room floor now.”  
   
Gabe grinned.  “Nice!  Like, one you can walk on and everything?”  
   
“Yes!”  
   
He chuckled at the joy in his brother’s voice.  It was so good that he was happy.  He deserved so much happiness.  “Very impressive, Cassie.”  
   
“It already feels warmer in here,” Cas went on.  
   
“I’m sure!”  
   
He stepped aside as Dean and Sam brought in the rest of the dishes.  
   
“I, uh...saw someone today.”  
   
Gabe stopped where he stood, the hair on his arms rising.  He feigned chipper, but he already noted the drop in Castiel’s voice and the hint of worry.  “Saw, like went on a date?”  
   
“No...”  
   
Gabe ran his hand over his pocket, feeling his keys there.  He could leave right this second if he needed to.  
   
“A man was staring at the house.  For a long time.”  
   
“What kind of man?  Was it- ”  
   
“No.  No, I don’t know who it was.  I went outside to confront him - .”  
   
“Cas!”  
   
“But he was already gone.”  
   
Gabe scrubbed a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.  
   
“Anyway,” he mumbled quietly, “just thought I should tell you.”  
   
“I’m glad you did,” Gabe nodded.  “How ‘bout I come get you and you stay at my place tonight.  Just to, ya know, get a good night’s sleep.”  
   
“No,” Cas sighed.  “I should stay here.  What if he tries to break in?”  
   
Gabe pushed away the chills that still ran rampant.  “I’ll be there in half an hour.  You’re coming home with me tonight.”  
   
“But - ”  
   
“Cassie,” Gabe warned, tight, with no room for arguing.  
   
“Fine.”  
   
“See you soon.”  He hung up the phone, realizing Sam and Dean were listening to his end of the phone call.  “I gotta head out soon.”  Sam nodded, understanding.    
   
Dean looked curious.  “That your sister?”  
   
“Close enough,” Gabe smirked.  
   
“Is Cas okay?” Sam asked.  
   
Gabe sighed.  “Yeah.  He said some guy was creepin’ around the house today.”  
   
“What?” Sam frowned.  
   
“Yeah.  I told him he’s coming home with me tonight.”  
   
“You want me to check out the house?” Sam asked, coming around Dean, looking ready to go.  
   
“No, we’ll be fine.”  Gabe loved that about Sam too.  He was fearless and loyal.  “I’ll call you when we get home.”  
   
Sam nodded, walking to the door with him as he waved goodnight to Dean.  “Sorry I had to cut this short.  I just don’t want...”  
   
“I know,” Sam grinned, leaning down to kiss him.  It was slow and warm with a tiny bit of tongue.  He rested his forehead against Sam’s.  “Dammit.  I wish I didn’t have to go.”  
   
“How about I pack a bag and come over tonight?”  
   
Gabe stepped back with a wide grin.  “Yeah?”  
   
“Yeah,” Sam laughed.  “I’ll come over in like an hour.”  
   
“But what about Dean?” He looked toward the kitchen guiltily.  
   
“He’s all inspired with something and writing nonstop today.  He does that sometimes.”  
   
Gabe shrugged.  “If it’s not a problem, then yeah.  Come spend the night with me.”  He pulled Sam down to his height again.  “It’ll be a slumber party.”  He waggled his eyebrows with a grin.  “I can braid your hair and we can talk about boys.”  
   
Sam laughed.  “There’s only one boy I’ll be talking about.”  
   
Gabe grinned with a little hum.  He had no idea how he had managed to land this god of long legs, muscles, and endearing smiles.  He leaned up, kissing him again.  “See you soon.”  
   
   
************************************  
   
   
Sam went back into the kitchen, putting the last of the containers of leftovers in the fridge.  
   
“So, what’s the story with Gabe’s brother?  He looked really freaked out.  Even if he is a big brother.”  
   
Sam blew out a breath, leaning against the counter.  “So, Gabe has two other brothers and a sister.  Michael and Raphael are like ten years older than Gabe, then Cas, then Anna.  Blended family situation.  Their dad left shortly after Anna was born and their mom raised them all herself.”  
   
Dean narrowed his eyes, listening like there was going to be a test.  
   
“So, Raphael and Michael were grown and out of the house.  Gabe had snuck out to go to a friend’s.”  Sam paused, hating this story.  Hating that any of them had to be a part of it.  “There was a break-in.  The Novaks weren’t wealthy, so there wasn’t a lot to steal.  It got really violent.  Cas hid Anna in a hall closet and was trying to find Gabe when the robbers caught him.  Anna tried to help when they were hurting him...”  Sam sighed again.  “Anna almost died.  She was like 8 at the time.  And Cas was like 12.  Their mom was hurt too.  It was brutal and it still has all three of them kinda messed up.”  
   
Dean swallowed, his eyes going wide.  
   
“Gabe was the one who found them.  He said...he said there was so much blood.  Anna has some paralysis from it.  And Cas...well, Cas still has issues from it.  The police caught two guys, but Cas says there was another man there.  The police say he was wrong, but he’s still pretty paranoid.”  
   
“And now some douchebag is creeping around his house?” Dean asked tightly, crossing his arms over his chest.  
   
“Well, that’s the thing, Gabe’s pretty sure the police were right.  That Cas is just paranoid.  But I don’t know.  I’m gonna go over to Gabe’s tonight.  This is the kind of thing that gets them both pretty worked up.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “Can I do anything?”  
   
Sam shrugged.  He wished he could do more.  “No.  I’ll see you after work tomorrow, but I’ll be late.  And I took Friday off to just hang out.  Sorry about this.”  
   
Dean waved him off.  “It’s no big deal.  I can take care of myself.”  
   
Sam nodded, heading out of the kitchen.  He turned back.  “So, what did you think of Gabe?”  
   
Dean smirked.  “I knew I liked him.  He’s a good brother.  That means he’d take even better care of you.  He’s definitely not your typical flavor, but I think he suits you.”  
   
“Yeah?” Sam had to laugh, not only at Dean’s use of the word flavor, but he felt enormously relieved that he liked Gabe.  “I’m glad.  I really like him.”  
   
“I can tell,” Dean snickered.  “That sucks, what happened to them.  Do you think it’s gonna be a problem?”  
   
Sam shrugged.  “No worse than us and our history.  Just...shit to work through.”  
   
Dean tilted his head in admission.    
   
   
******************************************  
   
   
Castiel woke in his warm, clean bed at Gabriel’s.  He took advantage of being here and took a decent, warm shower.  He had one functioning shower at his place, but the draft in the house made it really cold when you got out.    
   
He also took another box of things with him, continuing his slow move into the Victorian house.    
   
“Ready?” Gabe asked, “You sure you wanna spend the day at your place?”  
   
“Yes.  It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”  They exchanged their longstanding glance of guilt from Gabe and ‘I’m over it’ look from Castiel.  
   
It was 4am and still dark, but those were the hours of a baker, so Cas yawned as he shoved the large box into the back of Gabe’s car.  
   
“I’m glad I took this week off of work,” Cas said into the tense silence as they drove.  “There’s just so much to do to the place.”  
   
Gabe didn’t answer him.  
   
“Gabriel, it’s going to be okay.”  
   
“Mmhmm.”  
   
“I love the house!” Cas defended.  “I have to do this Gabe.  I can’t stay with you forever!  I’m almost 30!”  
   
“I know,” Gabe sighed.  “I know.  Sorry.  It just...freaks me out.”  
   
“Dr. Duma says I need this.  That this is what is holding me back.  And I agree.”  
   
Gabe pulled up along the front of the house.  “I get it.  I don’t like it, but I get it.  Okay?”  Gabe gave him a solemn look.  “I’m tryin’ bro.”  
   
Castiel’s frustration softened.  He gave his brother a small smile.  “See you later.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  
   
Cas got out, getting his box and heading into the house.  He should have tried to deal with the yard work better over the summer.  Now that fall was here, he wanted to be outside even less.  He locked the front door, watching Gabe pull away.  As he stepped inside, he wondered if it was warmer outside than inside the house.  It felt about the same temperature.  He shivered, sitting the box down at the bottom of the stairs in the entryway.  He began moving around his portable heaters to try and warm the living room.  Heat rises, so if he could heat the first floor, perhaps the other floors would heat as well.  
   
The floor guys showed up shortly after nine and he did his best to stay out of their way.  Today they were finishing the replaced living room floor and the finish on the stairs.  He kept busy painting one of the bedrooms.    
   
Extremely pleased with the work the men had done, Cas went about making his dinner and making a list to prioritize house projects.  
   
Long after the floor guys had left, the sky already so dark blue it was graying into black, Castiel found himself squinting at the screen on his laptop.  He closed it, going to the living room to get one of the lights he had moved in there for the workers.  He froze in the middle of the room, staring through the doorway to the front doors.  The silhouette of a man standing at his front door filled him with cold terror.  
   
The doorknob turned gently with a click.  
   
His mouth dropped open.  
   
The door creaked open.  
   
He hadn’t locked it?  
   
Nononononononono!!!!!!  
   
   
***********************************************  
   
   
Dean rolled his eyes, pacing around the tiny room that used to be his childhood bedroom.  It was neatly decorated with bears and moose and cabin-like decor.  Wilderness paintings hung where his posters once were.  He did grin when he noticed four tiny tack holes where he had a poster pinned to his ceiling as a teenager.  It felt like a tiny piece of his high school self had survived.  Attention back on the phone against his ear, he tuned back into what his editor was saying.  “Ya know what, Crowley, I don’t give a shit what you say.  I need an extension on my deadline.  That’s all there is to it.  And you’re gonna give it to me because...you just are.”  Dean rubbed at his forehead.  
   
“Listen here, Squirrel, give me something.  Anything!  I’ve already given you three extensions!  Three!”  
   
Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, hating when Crowley’s voice ratcheted up octave after octave until he could barely breathe.  
   
“Send me something!  I don’t care if it’s utter rubbish!  Send it!”  
   
“Fine,” Dean sighed with defeat.  
   
Crowley took a deep breath, his voice soothing again.  “What’s the issue?  I thought you were going home.”  
   
“I did.  I am.  I got sidelined on another story and I’m struggling to finish the wendigo book.”  
   
“You know I hate when you deviate from the plan.”  
   
“I know,” Dean groaned.  “But hey, that’s how we ended up with the Vanir story!”  
   
“Meanwhile, I had to eat shit over Bugs.  So, shut whatever’s tickling around under your artfully tousled hair and GIVE ME MORE WENDIGO! The publisher has approved and already started coverwok plans! Focus on what we actually have approval to turn in.”  
   
“Right,” Dean snapped.  “I’ll send it Monday.”  
   
“Now!”  
   
Dean huffed.  “Fine.  Tomorrow.”  
   
“Fine.  And Dean, it better be worth the wait.”  
   
Dean ended the call.  “Eat me.”  He tossed the phone onto the bed, sitting down again and opened his wendigo file.  He had one lousy chapter written since what he had sent Crowley already.  And it was shit.  He knew it.  The lax in details was tangling him up already and he didn’t give a shit about any of the characters, so why would a reader?  He blew out a big breath, closing the document.  He eyed his new inspiration, simply labeled ‘House’.  
   
He should knuckle down and fix his mess with the wendigo story.    
   
He closed the laptop and headed downstairs.  He felt stir crazy.  He had been hashing out a really good story about the house, but the second and third floor were a complete mystery to him.  He could just make it up, but...the real deal would be so much cooler!  It was almost dark.  If he hurried, he could try to look in some of the windows to answer some questions he had.  Even better...he might be able to get inside.  
   
He grabbed a flashlight and his coat, heading to the house that was taking up all his thoughts.  He needed some details and he could really hammer out a great story.  
   
He walked the four blocks, stopping at the front gate of the house.  He glanced around, seeing no one.  The last thing he needed was a neighbor calling about a trespasser.  He went through the gate, which stubbornly stuck in its place, making him squeeze through.  He went up the porch steps quickly.  
   
His heart was beating like a jack-hammer.  He was too old for this shit, but it made him grin anyway.  “Come on,” he mumbled, stunned that the front door clicked open in his hand.  He had at least expected a struggle to get in.  “Sweet.”  
   
He pushed the door open, stepping inside quickly and closing the door behind him.  It was dark inside.  And cold.  But...not as cold as he expected it to be.   He glanced into the two big rooms on either side of the entryway.  He knew there was a big kitchen beyond the stairs.  He went straight for the steps, turning his flashlight on.  He had planned on crawling his way up the banister to get passed the section of broken steps...but they had been repaired.  
   
“Huh...”. He shone his flashlight ahead, creeping up the steps quietly.  He started to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.  Was someone here?  Was someone repairing the house?  But it looked so untouched outside.  Assured again, he got to the second floor, marveling at the woodwork.  
   
The smell of paint made him wrinkle his nose.  
   
Paint?  Shit.  Someone WAS updating the house!  He took a few steps forward, shining his light into a room that had drop cloths and a ladder in it.  
   
“Shit.”  
   
He turned around, finding himself face to face with a man with piercing blue eyes and a hella scowl.  
   
“Shit!  I - ”  
   
Dean felt the first punch like a fucking Mack truck.  He staggered back, dropping the flashlight.  “Wait!” He ducked another punch, taking a kick to the ribs instead.  His ass hit the floor and he scrambled to get away.  “Fuck!  Stop!”  
   
The man grabbed him by the coat, picking him the rest of the way up, slamming him into the hallway wall.  All Dean could do was grab his wrists and hang on.  The slam knocked the wind out of him.  
   
The man glared into his face, looking over him carefully, something passed through his eyes before the blind anger was back.  “You think you can sneak in here and kill me!”  
   
The man’s voice was deep, gravelly, and dangerous.  “Kill you?” Dean choked out, wincing as his hands drove into his chest like a pair of vises.  “Nyaaa, dude!”  
   
Seeing the man was beyond his shitty explanation for breaking in, he resorted to escaping.  Slipping into fight mode, he head butted the man hard.  
   
The guy let go, his hands flying to cradle his head.  Dean made a break for it, running for the stairs.  He could hear footsteps behind him and dropped down the steps quickly.  With one hand on the doorknob, he felt the full weight of the man jump him from behind.  His knees buckled, dropping them both to the floor.  He squirmed, elbowing the man hard in the head to get him off, then lunged forward.  
   
He was quickly taken over again, the man grabbing for his arms to restrain him.    
   
“Get off!” Dean yelled.  
   
Dean squirmed out of the grab, on his back now with the man fully straddling him.  “I - ”.  The last thing Dean saw was the man’s scared, angry face and an old iron doorstop in his hand.  Everything went black after the sickening thud to his head.  
   
   
   
Dean groaned.  His stomach hurt.  His head really fucking hurt.  He blinked his eyes open.  “What the hell?”  
   
He was in the creepy house, on his stomach in the entryway.  There were several lights turned on in the living room, making it easier to see.  Police lights flashed through the window of the front door and two cops stood over him, talking to a man with dark brown hair.  
   
“Fuck.”  
   
The brown-haired man turned, looking down at him with a smug grin.  
   
“What the fuck is your problem?” Dean snapped, wincing at his head, which he tried to reach for but couldn’t.  He tipped his head back.  “Handcuffs?  Seriously?”  He groaned.  No one was going to believe he was here with good intensions.  Nosy ones, but certainly not worth getting beat up and arrested for.  
   
Arrested.  
   
Shit.  
   
Sam was going to be pissed.  And Crowley.  Ugh.  
   
Gabe burst through the door, making the others look at him.  
   
Gabe?  
   
Dean stared at him.  “I’m so fucking confused.”  
   
Sam came in right after him.  
   
Sam?  What the hell!  “Did somebody call you?” He mumbled, no one hearing him.  
   
“Are you okay?” Gabe asked, his voice shaking as he hugged the guy that had kicked his ass.  
   
“Alright, buddy,” the cop said, jerking him up to his feet.  
   
“Dean?” Sam said in shock, eyes wide.  
   
“Sam?  What the hell is happening?”  
   
Gabe turned to him with a laser-sharp glare that turned to confusion.  “What the fuck are you doing here?  Are you breaking into my brother’s house?”  One cop put up an arm to restrain Gabe.  
   
“I was trying to see the second floor!” Dean yelled, wincing back, really not wanting to take another shot to the head.  “And the third floor!  I’m writing a story!  I thought the place was abandoned!  I didn’t know anyone was here!”  
   
“Jesus, Dean,” Sam sighed in exasperation.    
   
“You know him?” The home owner asked incredulously.  
   
“Yes,” Gabe snapped, stopping to stare at Dean with a measuring look.  
   
“Wait!” Sam said to the cop who was pushing Dean toward the door.  
   
“You can pick him up at the precinct.  If he gets bail.”  
   
“Shit,” Dean swore, if he got arrested, this could go so bad.  
   
“Cas, please!  I’m sure there’s a good reason for this.  That’s Dean!  My brother!” Sam went on.  Dean was too busy trying not to fall down the porch steps at this point to hear the rest.  
   
Hands cuffed behind his back and head thumping like hell, he was dazed by the flashing lights as the cop stopped to open the back door of the squad car.  He sat inside when the cop pushed him forward.    
   
“Did you even read me my rights?” Dean snapped.  “Cause if you did, I was UNCONSCIOUS for it.”  
   
The cop glared at him, slamming the door shut.  
   
“Shit.”  Dean stretched his jaw around, trying to shake the dizziness from his head.  He was going to be arrested.  Fuck.  He closed his eyes, wishing he were anywhere else.  “FUCK!” He yelled to the empty car.  
   
   
***************************************  
   
   
Castiel frowned.  He was trying to follow what Sam was saying.  “So... that man is your brother.  And you think he was here...researching?”  
   
Sam rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.  “Yes!  He would never steal from you.  And he would never be here trying to hurt you.  Cas.”  It was a plead.  
   
Castiel was still shaking with adrenaline pumping through his system.    
   
“Then why did he break in here if Dean is such a great guy?” Gabe demanded.  
   
Sam, turning to him with a bewildered look, shrugged.  “I... I don’t know.  But please, Cas...don’t have him arrested.”  
   
Castiel sighed.  “Officer...” the cop standing there listening to them tipped his head, listening.  “Just...let him go.”  
   
The cop stared at him a moment.  “He was caught breaking in.  Are you sure?”  
   
Castiel sighed, glancing at Sam’s pleading face.  “I’m sure.  Let him go.”  
   
Sam sighed, relaxing tremendously.  “Thank you.”  
   
Gabe crossed his arms over his chest.  He was pissed.  He would just have to get over it.  
   
“Should I take him home?” The cop asked.  
   
Castiel glanced at Gabe’s irritated face again.  “No.  Let him in.”  
   
“Are you sure, Mr. Novak?  You have every right to press charges,” the cop pressed.  
   
Castiel looked out the open door at the man sitting in the back of the squad car.  Part of him was terrified of him coming out of the car.  This was supposed to be his safe place.  He’d had such hopes here.  The other part of him relaxed in the knowledge that he had kicked his ass once.  He could likely do it again.  And... he was Sam’s brother.    
   
“Yes.  Let him go.”  
   
“Thank you!” Sam said again, following the cop out the door.  
   
“Jeez!” Gabe yelled, pacing across the living room and back.    
   
“Gabriel, please stop stressing.  I handled it.  I’m fine.”  
   
“It’s NOT okay!”  
   
“Gabe,” Cas said, snatching his sleeve as he paced by, stopping him.  “I’m okay.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  But Castiel knew his brother well.  Gabe would beat himself up for not being here.  For him having to deal with this on his own.  He was spinning in his anger and it would only eat him up and make him paranoid if he couldn’t distract him.  
   
“So... you know this man?” He asked.  
   
“Yeah.  I thought he was a decent guy too!  So much for that!”  Gabe went out the open front door and down the porch steps at a fast click.  
   
Castiel followed him, seeing the cop uncuff the man.  Dean.  He rubbed at his wrists, glaring at the cop.  “Yeah?  Well Sheriff Mills is a friend of mine.  So feel free to tell her I said hi.”  
   
“I’ll be sure to do that,” the cop retorted.  
   
“Sorry, officer,” Sam apologized, steering Dean up the sidewalk toward him.  Castiel frowned, standing on the lowest step of the porch.  
   
“What are you doing?” Dean snapped at his brother.  He looked up at Castiel and squinted.  “I am NOT going back in there.”  
   
“No,” Sam said sternly, much like Castiel had seen him handle unruly students.  “You’re going to apologize to Cas and explain what the hell you were doing in his house.”  
   
Gabe stood just to the side of Cas, arms crossed over his chest with a hawk-like scowl.  He might be the smallest of the group, but Cas knew better than to press his brother too hard.  He was a force to be reckoned with.    
   
Gabe snapped before he or this brother of Sam’s could say anything.  “This better be crystal-fucking-clear, Winchester.  Or an ambulance will be the next thing called.”  
   
Dean sighed, not meeting Castiel’s eyes.  Or Gabe’s.  “I was doing research.  I’ve been checking out this house.  It’s the location for my next story.  And I thought it was VACANT.  It looks like an abandoned house!”  He winced, grabbing his head again.    
   
“Dean’s a writer,” Sam added, looking between him and Gabe with an imploring frown.  He turned back to his brother.  “And?” He demanded.  
   
Dean shuffled around on the sidewalk.  “Sorry.  Sorry I trespassed.  Sorry you’re a fucking ninja and...” his voice was trailing off and Sam took ahold of his arm, “sorry that fucking doorstop ever existed.”  
   
“Dean?” Sam said much more gently.  
   
“I gotta go,” Dean muttered.  
   
“He might have a concussion,” Castiel said, unable to help himself.  Dean looked very pale and slightly sweaty.  
   
“You think?” Dean huffed, wincing again.  
   
Gabe sighed.  “You’re really killing my whole anger mojo, Winchester.  Should I call an ambulance?”  
   
“No!” Dean winced.  “I’m good.”  
   
“Dean, I’ll take you to the hospital,” Sam insisted.  
   
“No!” Dean hissed.  “I don’t have insurance.  Just...help me get home.”  
   
Castiel exchanged a worried look with Sam.  “What should I do?”  
   
Sam looked at his brother again.  “I’m just gonna take him home.  Sorry about all this, Cas.  I know he didn’t mean to scare you.”  Sam’s attention was back on Dean as the man started to wander toward the gate like he was drunk.  
   
“Please, bring him in,” Cas relented, seeing he wasn’t a threat to anyone at this point.  
   
Sam hesitated but seemed to think better of his offer, taking Dean by his arm again and steering him toward the porch.  Dean’s reaction to the house, pulling back with a frown and starting to argue, made Cas feel guilty for the first time.  He stepped off the porch step and gently took Dean by his other arm, insisting he come inside to sit down and rest.  
   
Sam sat him on the floor, against a wall in the living room.  The only furniture in the house was a kitchen table and chairs.  In the kitchen.  Castiel sighed at the whole bizarre situation.  
   
“I’ll be fine,” Dean argued.  “Just...” he gave up, leaning back against the wall.  
   
“I’ll make an ice pack for your stupid head,” Gabe griped.  
   
Cas frowned down at the man in worry.  He had never injured someone out of anger before and he found he didn’t like it at all.  
   
Dean looked up at him, squinting.  His lip was slightly swollen, his eye had a bruise purpling under it, and the squint of pain in his green eyes made him feel terrible.  
   
He also had to admit, the man was really good looking.  
   
Cas squatted in front of him, Gabe handing him an ice pack.  He handed it to Dean.  
   
Reluctantly, Dean took it, putting it to his head gingerly.  “Thanks,” he muttered.  
   
“What kind of research were you attempting to do?” Cas asked.  
   
Dean closed his eyes, leaning into the ice pack.  “I’m a writer.  And I’ve always been kinda...creeped out by this place, so...” he sighed, waving a hand in the general direction of the stairs, “thought I’d sneak in here and check out the layout of the second and third floor.”  
   
Castiel nodded.  “You should have tried knocking.”  
   
Dean opened his eyes, giving him a cocky smirk.  “The door was unlocked.”  
   
“What?” Gabe gasped.  
   
Castiel rolled his eyes, frowning at his own sore head.  “I must have forgotten to lock it when the flooring installation crew left.”  
   
Gabe stared at him with an open mouth.  “Not cool, Cassie.”  
   
“I do realize that now, Gabriel.  Thank you.”  
   
Gabe huffed, walking into the hall.  Sam stood up.  “If I leave you two alone, will you please not beat each other up?”  
   
Castiel eyed Dean, who eyed him back, both of them nodding.  
   
Sam disappeared and Castiel sat on the floor, wondering what to say in this type of situation.  
   
“Hey,” Dean huffed, “there’s no hole in the floor.”  
   
Cas looked back at where the huge hole had been.  He frowned, turning back to Dean.  “How did you know that?  Just how many times have you broken in here?”  
   
Dean held up a hand.  “Easy Jet Li.  Today was the first time in over ten years since I’ve been in here.”  
   
Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  “So, you have broken in here.”  
   
Dean groaned.  “Yeah.  Back when I was in high school.  Couple times.  Some of us broke in here and drank.”  
   
“Mm.  Did you leave me artwork as well?” He asked flatly.  
   
Dean frowned.  “What?  No.  No, this place was just creepy.  We’d sneak in, drink our beer, scare the shit out of each other, and leave.”  His eyes ran over the walls of the living room, taking in all the graffiti.  
   
Cas nodded.  
   
“I never trashed your house.”  
   
Gabe and Sam returned, Gabe handing Cas an ice pack.  He gently pressed it to the side of his head where Dean had elbowed him quite ruthlessly.  His forehead hurt too.  
   
“Sorry,” Dean offered, looking like he meant it this time.  
   
“Sorry I got so rough,” he apologized in return.  
   
“You hit like a linebacker!” Dean chuckled, blushing slightly.  
   
Cas blushed in return.  “Well, you put up a good fight.”  
   
“Gee, thanks,” Dean sighed, closing his eyes.    
   
His color looked better.    
   
“You’re lucky to be alive,” Gabe noted, not joking, “Cas is a third degree black belt.”  
   
“Ah,” Dean grinned at him with some understanding.  “Your Mr. Miyagi would be proud.”  
   
“I do not know a Mr. Miyagi,” Cas frowned.  
   
Dean’s face grew suspicious.  “Karate Kid?”  
   
Castiel continued to stare at him in confusion.  
   
“Seriously?” Dean looked half worried and half offended.  He turned to Gabe.  
   
“He’s a little rusty in the movie reference area,” Gabe explained.  “And the people skills.”  
   
“No shit,” Dean sighed, shifting his ice pack.    
   
But Dean eyed him with a little curiosity and if he didn’t know better, attraction.  
   
“So, Cas,” Sam stepped over, squatting down, “guess I should introduce the two of you.  This is my brother, Dean.  He’s a writer.  He is Dean Smith, if you’ve heard of his books.”  
   
Castiel’s jaw dropped slightly.  He had no idea Sam’s brother was Dean Smith.  He had read two of his books.  Why had Gabe kept that tidbit to himself?  He had had to hear every pornographic detail about Sam (his freaking co-worker!), you would think this might have made the ‘share’ list!  
   
“Dean, this is Cas, Gabe’s brother.  We work together at Lawrence High.”  
   
“Let me guess,” Dean grinned, “you teach gym class.”  
   
Castiel frowned.  “Math.”  
   
“Of course,” Dean sighed, eyeing him again curiously.  
   
“I truly am sorry for hurting you so badly.  I...”  
   
“Hey,” Dean grinned, “don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.  This was my fault.  I really thought no one had been here in years.”  Dean looked around the living room again.  “This place is so friggin’ cool!”  
   
Castiel grinned.  He had heard many comments about his house since he had bought it.  The reactions he typically got were, ‘that house?’, ‘abandoned’, ‘ruined’, ‘dump’, ‘condemned’, or ‘shack’.  No one had given it the appreciation Cas knew it deserved.  Even the people coming in to do work were often initially thrown off.  The man in charge of fixing his floors had laughed in his face.  “It’s like putting lipstick on a pig!”  He had quickly changed his tune with Castiel’s unamused face and ready checkbook.  He had also admitted, once he was into the job, that the ‘bones’ of the house were a lot nicer than he had expected.  
   
Dean ran a hand over the wallpaper, his eyes trailing the baseboards around to the fireplace.  “This place is just so awesome.”  
   
Castiel grinned.  Perhaps this thief with a head of cast iron would turn out to be more than the jerk he had thought him to be.  
   
Sam laughed.  “I shoulda told you sooner that Cas lived here.  I forgot how much you loved this place.”  Sam sat next to Dean handing both men two Tylenol.  Gabe sat next to Cas, handing them both a bottle of water.  “When I was a kid,” Sam grinned, “Dean would tell me the scariest stories about this house.”  Sam looked around the room in wonder.  “Remember the one about the MacLeod’s?”  
   
“Oh yeah,” Dean grinned.  
   
“The mom was a witch and... oh! How ‘bout the one about the three brothers that lived here.  They were witches too.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “Ah, yes.  That was during my ‘Charmed’ phase.  Three dudes instead of three chicks?”  
   
Castiel grinned.  He did know that show.  “This house reminded me of the house on that show when I first saw it.”  
   
“Right?!” Dean nodded, still grinning.    
   
Crinkles etched in adorable laugh lines by his eyes.  But his boyish freckles were a contrast to his age.  
   
“Oh! Sam!  What about the Bloody Mary one?”  
   
Sam shivered, looking at Cas, “Dean had me so terrified of this house that I would walk blocks out of my way to avoid passing it.”  
   
Dean nodded proudly.  
   
“I’d have sleepovers and Dean would come down and tell stories to me and my friends.  And Dad would get pissed ‘cause he’d have to drive Ron home in the middle of the night because he was so scared!”    
   
“Ole Ronnie Reznick!” Dean laughed.  Both the brothers laughed, easing the last of the tension in the room, even dragging a begrudged laugh out of Gabe.  
   
Castiel shook his head, still grinning.  “Gabe thinks it’s a terrible investment.  But I was just...drawn to the place.”  
   
“It’s a money pit,” Gabe scoffed.  “And it isn’t very safe.  Especially when you don’t lock the friggin’ doors, Cassie.”  
   
Cas sighed.  No place would ever be safe enough in Gabe’s opinion.  
   
Dean gave Gabe a look of understanding.  Great.  Maybe Dean had already heard about their past.  Sometimes he felt like he’d never get out from under the oppression of the damage one night in your life can cause.  He caught another glance from Dean, getting a wink and a checked grin.  
   
Cas blushed a little.  Dean was...a bit more charming in the light of day.  
   
“We should go.  You look a little better, Dean.  Like you won’t pass out, at least.”  Sam got to his feet, pulling Dean up.  
   
They all stood.  Sam and Gabe went to the front door, talking quietly between themselves.  
   
“Dean,” Cas said quietly, hating the sight of the bruise growing on the handsome man’s face.  “Would you like to come look around the house?  In the daylight?”  
   
Dean’s grin was charming and dazzling, making Castiel catch his breath.  
   
“Yeah.  Yes!  I’ll uh, knock and wait to be let in, even.”  
   
Cas grinned, chuckling at his boyish charm.  “I’ll answer it.  Without the doorstop.”  
   
They both openly checked each other out.  Cas fought the grin when Dean’s cheeks pinked ever so slightly.  
   
“It was...uh...nice to meet you, Cas,” Dean grinned, holding a hand out.  Cas shook it immediately, liking the strong, warm grip of his hand.  Dean held onto him.  “Sorry for breaking in.”  
   
Cas nodded, fascinated with the green of his eyes and the handsome set of his jaw.  “Anytime,” he said distractedly.  
   
Dean arched an eyebrow, his grin growing cockier.  
   
“I mean, it’s okay.  You are welcome any time.”  Dean let his hand go with a soft chuckle.  “Although,” Cas added, “I would recommend you knock.”  
   
“Will do.”  He handed Cas the ice pack back, heading for the front door.  
   
Cas followed him, saying goodbye to Sam.  
   
“Sorry about the...” Dean glanced between Cas and Gabe, “breaking in thing.  And the scare.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “Glad you didn’t fight back any harder.  We might be having this pow-wow at the morgue.”  
   
“Yeah.  Lesson learned.  I’ll try to do my research legally from now on.”  
   
The Winchesters both waved as they left.  Dean looked steadier on his feet.  Cas couldn’t help but admire the man’s build all the way to Sam’s car.  Gabe shut the door with a glare.  “Don’t even think about it.”  
   
“About what?” Cas asked, busying himself with the two ice packs in his hands.  
   
“About Dean.  We can’t date brothers.”  
   
“Is he gay?” Cas asked, fighting a grin.  
   
Gabe sighed heavily.  “Yes.  The answer is still no.  I’ve never been with someone like Sam.  And you can’t...you just, no.”  Gabe headed toward the kitchen.  
   
Cas followed him.  “Would it really matter?”  
   
“Yes!”  Gabe snapped.  “I’m...” he blew out a breath, staring out the window over the sink.  “I’m in love with him, Cassie.”  He turned to stare at him.  “I really want this to work between me and Sam.  You two mutton-heads start tangling and...it won’t end well.”  
   
Cas frowned.  
   
“You can’t date my boyfriend’s brother,” Gabe insisted.  “It’s just...weird.”  
   
Cas nodded.  Other than being overprotective, it was rare for Gabe to ask such a thing.  He tamped down some of the hopeful thoughts sprouting in his mind.  He could respect his brother’s wishes.  
   
“Besides,” Gabe scoffed, “Dean’s not your type.  He’s a partier.  He blares his music.  And, and, he’s right handed!  I mean, everyone knows the true artists, writers, creators, whatever, are left-handed.  So...his career’s gonna tank inevitably.”  
   
Castiel laughed at that.  “I get the point, Gabe.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are all enjoying this! Thanks for the comments and kudos! You guys are amazing!!!!


	4. If Wishes Were Horses, All Men Could Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean celebrate their parent’s anniversary. Gabe is in looooove. Dean gets a tour of that house he’s so fascinated with. Cas gets to give Dean a tour of his house.
> 
> Cuteness and fluff ahead!

Chapter 4:  If Wishes Were Horses, All Men Could Ride  
   
 

 

Sam turned his alarm off, getting up.  It was Friday, October 25th.  Officially ten years without his parents.  It was hard to believe he was 25 and they had missed everything his life had been so far.  He turned over, picking up his cell phone.  He grinned, seeing he had gotten a text from Gabe at 4:30 this morning.  
   
Gabe:  Good morning gorgeous!  I will be thinking of you all day today.  Let me know if you want to get together tonight.  
   
The next text was three rows of kissey faces and other random emojis.  
   
Sam grinned, texting him back.  
   
Sam:  Wish I was waking up with you and not just your texts.  I’ll call you after 2:00.  
   
Gabe:  that can be arranged!  The waking up bit!  
   
Sam grinned, dropping the phone to his chest and grinning up at the blank ceiling.  He sat up, tossing his covers back.  It was time to move this relationship to the next step.  He grinned all the way to the shower.  Only Gabe could make him grin on such a gloomy day.  And it truly was gloomy.  It was raining steadily, and leaves were falling like snow, blowing in the steady wind.  
   
Dressed and ready for the day, he pushed Dean’s door open.  He was sprawled out across his bed, blankets twisted everywhere, laptop open, and he was sporting a nasty black eye.  
   
He bit his lip.  Cas had really done a number on him.  Initially he had wanted to be really pissed at Cas, but it was Dean’s own fault for sneaking in there.  He had been worried for a few long minutes that the whole thing was going to ruin things between he and Gabe.  Luckily, Cas and Dean seemed to work it out, so Gabe relaxed.  If Dean had ruined things with Gabe...he’d be sporting more than one black eye.  
   
“Dean,” he called, not relishing the idea of waking him up.  He woke like a bear.  Always.  “Dean!”  
   
“What?” Dean snapped, groaning.  “Oh...fuck.”  Dean frowned hard.  “I feel like I was hit by a train.”  
   
Sam watched his brother as his frown melted into a grin.  “Why is that making you smile?”  
   
Dean schooled his face.  “It’s not.  It’s just that...damn...that guy packs a wallop.”  
   
“And that makes you smile,” Sam repeated, shaking his head.  “You are so damaged.”  
   
Dean snorted a sharp laugh.  “No arguments there.”  
   
“I’ll start the coffee.”  
   
“I’ll be down in ten.  Twenty.  I need a hot shower.”  He sat up, moving gingerly, putting a hand to his ribs.  He pulled up his t-shirt to reveal a bruise on his side.  “Damn.”  
   
Sam was slightly shocked that anyone, let alone sweet, nerdy Castiel, had kicked his brother’s ass.  “How’s your head?” Sam asked.  
   
“Pounding,” Dean grinned, obviously fighting the pain like the smart-ass he was.  
   
“I’ll get you some more Tylenol to go with your coffee.”  
   
“Much obliged,” Dean muttered, getting out of bed.  
   
Sam headed downstairs to start some breakfast.  He was feeling surprisingly light for the daunting day ahead.  By the time Dean came down, he had eggs, toast, and sausage links to go with their coffee.  
   
Dean sat down with a grin.  
   
“Wow,” Sam chuckled.  
   
“What?” Dean asked, stabbing three links to pull to his plate.    
   
“That shiner.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “I know.  I look like hell.  But...”  
   
Sam joined him at the table.  “But what?”  
   
“Buuut,” Dean grinned, “it was totally worth it.”  
   
Sam shook his head.  “The house?  Or Cas?”  
   
“Both,” Dean managed around a full mouth.  
   
Sam shook his head.  “You’re going back to check out that house, aren’t you?”  
   
“Yeah,” Dean scoffed.  “And then some.  He was checking me out big time.  Oh,” Dean gave him a growing grin, “you work with him!  He’s my type, right?”  
   
Sam frowned, taking Dean a bit more seriously.  “I do work with him.  But more than that, Gabe is his brother.  And if you think YOU were protective?  You haven’t seen anything.  You can’t...” the more he thought about it, the more the thought of Dean hooking up with Cas bothered him, “you can’t mess around with him Dean.  You’re just here visiting.  If you break his heart...”  
   
“Whoa,” Dean frowned.  “I wasn’t even talking about hearts.”  
   
“I know.  That’s the problem.  You can’t mess around with him.  I mean it.”  
   
Dean gave him an uncomfortable look.  “I need to talk to you about that anyway.”  
   
“What?” Sam asked, watching his brother carefully.  
   
“Me.”  Dean blew a breath out, putting his fork down.  
   
If this was enough to interrupt Dean from his sausage links, Sam was worried.  
   
“So... this year has been...shitty.”  
   
Sam knew Dean had been struggling this past year.  They had talked less than ever.  Dean always seemed to be grouchy, or drunk, or drunk and grouchy when he called.  
   
“I, uh...I thought I’d live in South Dakota for the rest of my life.  But...since Bobby died...I just can’t seem to...”  
   
“Dean,” Sam interjected carefully, “are you coming back home?  To stay?  I mean, you can.  You’re always welcome here.”  
   
Dean gave him an appreciative, if not sad, smile.  “Yeah.  I sold my place.  I kept Bobby’s.  A friend is helping to keep an eye on it, but...lately, I just, I think I want to move back to Lawrence for a while.”  
   
“Yeah!  Of course!” Sam was glad Dean had taken this route.  It certainly was more constructive than a bottle of booze.  
   
“Thanks, Sam.  I appreciate it.”  
   
Sam grinned at him, trying not to get too mushy, knowing how Dean hated that.  He should probably tell him that Crowley had spilled the beans on Dean’s latest trip to rehab and the fact that Dean had gone bankrupt.  But he’d get to that another time.  This day was hard enough as it was.  “It’ll be cool to have you back!  I mean it.”  
   
“Yeah.”  Dean started eating again.  “Lawrence is actually proving to be pretty damn good.”  
   
“Yeah?  It works for me,” Sam chuckled.  
   
“The house looks great, by the way.  I don’t think I said anything.  But I can tell you’re really working on the place.”  
   
“Yeah!  Thanks!  I did a lot outside over the summer.”  
   
They finished their breakfast, chatting about all he had done with the house since taking it over.  
   
Once the dishes were cleaned up, they shared a wordless conversation, getting ready to go to the cemetery.  
   
They stopped for flowers, then headed to their parents’ tombstones.  Standing there in the rain, he watched with detachment as Dean cleaned both markers until they were shiny and free of debris.  Sam handed him the flowers, putting them in front of the headstone, cheering up the dismal sight.  He stood, the knees of his jeans muddy as he took his place at his elbow.  
   
Rain pattered down cold and steady.  
   
“Dad woulda got a kick out of Gabe,” Dean grinned.  
   
“You think?” Sam asked, looking at him with real curiosity.  
   
“Yeah.  He’s a trickster.  And good to you.  Mom too.  She woulda liked him a lot.”  
   
Sam nodded.  “I hope so.”  
   
“Miss you, Mom,” Dean said quietly.  “You too, Dad.”  
   
Sam scrunched his mouth in protest of crying.  “Can’t believe it’s been ten years.”  
   
“Ten years,” Dean sighed.  “I’d say they would be pretty proud of us, Sammy.  Respectable citizens.  You, anyway.  Jobs.  Still taking care of each other.” He huffed a little laugh.  “They’d be real proud of you, for sure.”  
   
“You too, Dean!” Sam grinned.  “Best-selling author, making good money, traveling...”  
   
Dean nodded.  “I hope so.  I’m doin’ the best I can.  But that feels pretty shitty sometimes.”  
   
Sam stepped closer, putting an arm around Dean’s shoulders.  He always was too hard on himself.  Enough to be self-destructive sometimes.  It always had him a little worried.  He just hoped him being home was a good thing.  He certainly was glad to have him around.  
   
“Let’s see...” Sam sighed.  “You’re usually on the phone for this part, so...greatest hits this year...”  
   
Every year, Dean called Sam and stayed on the phone for the drive to the cemetery, staying on until he was back home.  During this part, Dean told them all the great shit Sam had done all year long.  And Sam told them all the great shit he had done.  It had started the first year they went to the cemetery and Dean told them about Sam winning an essay contest.  Sam had laughed, saying no one cared about that.  Dean had answered instantly, “Of course they care, Sammy.  It’s Mom and Dad.  They eat that shit up!  So I’ll tell them about all the good stuff you’ve done this year!”  And so, every year, they brag about each other and review the year.  
   
Dean put his arm around Sam in return.  “Sammy has a boyfriend.”  
   
“Dean’s hitting on my boyfriend’s brother.  When he’s not invading his house,” Sam countered.  
   
Dean smirked.  “That’s who gave me the black eye.  Funny story, thankfully.”  
   
“Dean’s working on another book.  Or two,” Sam added, staring at the grave stone.  
   
“Sam took his German club on a field trip to Germany last summer.  And managed to bring all 22 kids home in one piece.”  
   
“And none of them were arrested or came home pregnant.  Big win on that one,” Sam laughed.  
   
“The house looks great!  New oven in the kitchen!  Central air now,” Dean added.  
   
“My boss says I’m one of her favorites,” Sam blushed.  
   
Dean laughed.  “Damn, you went from teacher’s pet to principal’s pet?  Wow.”  
   
“Whatever!  You were totally Mr. Murphy’s pet!  You should really go see him.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “My boss hates my guts.  And I’m his favorite chew toy at the moment.  But it’s good.  It’s all good.”  
   
“Crowley takes good care of you,” Sam laughed, knowing Dean loved the guy and that Crowley took better care of Dean than any editor needed to professionally.  
   
“Yeah, ole bastard keeps a tight rein on me,” Dean admitted.  
   
“I’m glad you were here with me this year,” Sam added.  “I hate leaving by myself.”  
   
Dean hugged him to his side a little harder.  “Oh yeah, there’s that,” Dean added to their parents, “Guess I’m moving back to town.”  
   
The brothers stepped apart, saying whatever silent things they wanted to say in their own minds.    
   
By the time they got back in Sam’s Challenger, they were both soaked and pretty damn cold.  
   
Sam started the car, rubbing his hands together for heat.  
   
   
******************************************  
   
   
Gabe checked his phone during a lull in the grandpa crowd.  Nothing from Sam.  Hopefully, he was having an okay morning.  He wanted to be with him.  If Dean hadn’t come home, he would totally have stepped up and done the mourning-the-parents thing.  He slid the phone away, heading into the kitchen.  
   
“You got it all taken care of, Balthazar?”  
   
“Sure, sure,” Balthazar answered suavely.  “Shrimp appetizers, salads, steak and potatoes.  A lovely wine.  And the place all to yourselves when I leave.”  
   
Gabe grinned.  He loved surprises.  He loved surprising Sam most of all.  And tomorrow’s dinner was shaping up to be the perfect night to just spill his guts.  He and Sam had talked about their relationship twice before.  They’d had the...let’s do this, we’re boyfriends now, talk.  They’d had the share the test results talk.  And now...he was going to tell Sam how he really felt.  
   
He was in love.  
   
With Sam fucking Winchester.  
   
A history teacher.  Ha!  Who knew he’d ever be any teacher’s favorite?  
   
Now, as long as Cas was good for Saturday night, which he probably would be, he and Sam would have his place to themselves.  Cas hadn’t been home all week except the one night Dean had been lurking around scaring him.  
   
“You’re the best!” Gabe grinned, heading out the back door to meet one of his delivery guys.  
   
“Oh, I know it!” Balthazar grinned, drizzling topping onto tarts with an artful flourish to each one.  
 

   
***********************************  
 

   
Dean woke up Saturday morning feeling a good deal better than yesterday.  He and Sam had spent the day together and it had been a lot of fun.  Dean grabbed his phone, frowning at it ringing in his hand.  Crowley.  
   
“Yeah?” He answered, shutting his eyes.  
   
“Did you get my email?”  
   
Dean frowned at his phone, checking his email.  He read a scathing review of the one chapter he had done.  “You sent this at 3am.  Don’t you ever sleep?”  
   
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.  ‘Til then, I have all my minions to herd like the sheep you are.”  
   
“You are such a dick, Crowley.”  
   
“Kisses.  Now.  About this rubbish you sent.”  
   
“You said, send rubbish.  There ya go.  That’s where I’m at.”  
   
“Dean,” Crowley sighed, “love, what is happening?  Your head is nowhere near this.”  
   
Dean sighed, staring out the window.  It was raining again.  “Well...I’m sober.”  
   
“There is that,” Crowley conceded.   “Do I need to come visit?”  
   
“No.  I’ll figure it out.  I’m just...distracted.  And... I’m blocked, Crowley.  On the wendigo book, I’m blocked.”  
   
Crowley sighed.  “I’m going to extend your deadline to next week.  If I don’t have something worth passing on to our publisher...”  
   
“You will,” Dean frowned.  “You will.  Thanks, Crowley.”  
   
“If I don’t have something great, I’ll be coming to Lawrence.”  
   
Dean sighed.  “I know I’ve been a real pain in the ass this year.  But I promise, it’s gonna work out.  Besides, if I can get through this, I’m leaps and bounds ahead on my next book!”  
   
“Dean.  There won’t BE a next book if I can’t get this one.  Figure it out!”  
   
He hung up the phone.  He was used to Crowley ranting.  It was how he operated.  Normally, it was fine because Dean could use a fire lit under his ass to motivate him when he got distracted.  He and Crowley actually made a really good team.  But calls like these, when he was quiet, calm, and even nice?  Yeah, those scared the shit out of him.  And he would make good on his threat to show up.  Crowley had gone out on a limb for him several times this year, including two personal visits to sober him up.  
   
Luckily, he had kicked that problem.  And plane rides were totally legit reasons to drink.  Other than that, and the occasional beer socially, he had a real handle on alcohol.  
   
Now, he needed to focus and do his job.  He looked out the window at the rain.  It was a good day to stay inside, huddled up to his laptop, and write.  
   
He sighed.  He hated when writing felt like work.  It was like pulling his own teeth.  
   
He got up, heading downstairs for coffee.  Sam came in the front door, mopping his brow with a towel.  
   
“Were you...running?”  
   
“Yeah,” Sam panted.  
   
“From what?”  
   
“Funny.”  
   
“Okay, Lance Armstrong.”  
   
“That’s biking.”  
   
“Running is for when things are chasing you, Lance.”  
   
“Biking,” Sam deadpanned again.  “Lance Armstrong was a biker.”  
   
“Whatever.” Dean gave him an impatient pissy-face.  “Do not use the word ‘biker’ to describe people in spandex shorts.”  
   
“What’s got you in a mood?”  Sam asked, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge to guzzle it.  
   
“I gotta work.  If I can’t unfuck my wendigo story, Crowley’s gonna show up and ‘help me’.”  
   
“Yikes.”  Sam guzzled some more.  “Anything I can do to help?”  
   
Dean took a long drink of coffee.  “No.  I need to...storyboard it all over again and fix it.”  
   
Sam raised his eyebrows briefly.  “Sounds intense.”  
   
“It is.  Can I use the spare room?”  
   
Sam screwed his mouth up.  “Yeah...but I have all my storage stuff in there.  You might have to dig your way to the walls.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “Alright.”  
   
“So, you’re busy for the day?”  
   
“Oh yeah.”  He sat his half empty mug down on the table.  “The week, more likely.”  
   
“Okay.  Well, you care if I go to Gabe’s?”  
   
“You do you, man.”  
   
Sam nodded.  “I’m gonna shower and run some errands and then head over.  Probably for the night.”  
   
“Sounds serious,” Dean grinned.  
   
Sam grinned, not meeting his eyes.  “Yeah.”  
   
   
When Sam left, Dean was standing in the middle of the spare room.  Sam was not exaggerating.  The room was a mess of boxes and dressers.  He went back to his bedroom.  He hated to storyboard where he slept.  And besides, he needed more research.  
   
He got dressed and headed for the library, which was a block down from the school.  He stopped when he turned onto Vine Street, looking up at Cas’ house.  
   
This was research too.  
   
He bit his lip, going through the rusted gate and stopping at the front door.  He knocked loudly.  He waited, hearing nothing.  He knocked again.  
   
Finally, the doorknob clicked, and the door opened.  “Dean!” Cas said, obviously surprised, but Dean lit up as Castiel broke into a beautiful grin.  
   
“Hey.  I was on my way to the library...damn.  That sounded seriously nerdy.  And, uh, figured I’d see if you were home.”  
   
Cas stepped back with a grin.  “I did promise you a daylight tour, didn’t I?”  
   
Dean grinned.  Cas’ voice was just as rumbly and deep as it had been the night he broke in.  “Well, no pressure.  Figured I’d see what you were doing.”  
   
Dean couldn’t stop himself from looking around the entryway.  He could see where work had been done on the floor in the living room and the stairs. It was shiny and beautiful compared to the worn stain in the entryway, hall and dining room.  The house had a lot of windows that let in light everywhere, giving it a whole new feel inside.    
   
“It’s actually warm in here,” he noted.  
   
“Yes, well, a furnace is a wonderful, and expensive, thing.  It was just installed yesterday.”  He closed the door, waving him in, “come on in.”  
   
He glanced into the living room.  
   
“I just had the hardwood floor replaced in here.”  
   
“Love the wallpaper,” Dean smirked, eyeing a stick figure giving another stick figure a blowjob, spray painted onto the wall.  
   
Cas chuckled, making Dean look at him, chasing the sound.  “I can’t wait to attack this room.”  
   
“So violent,” Dean grinned, noting Cas’ bruise beside his eye was a yellowish purple.  “How’s the head?”  
   
Cas chuckled again.  “Fine.  Doesn’t look too nice, but I don’t get out much anyway.”  
   
“That’s a shame.  I mean, getting out.”  Cas had a way of making him trip on his own words.  
   
He grinned, looking up at Dean.  Cas’ eyes were such a bright, dark blue.  They made you stare without even realizing you were doing it.  
   
He smiled a little slower, staring right back.  
   
Cas turned to face him fully, his grin growing troubled.  “How is your head?”  
   
“It’s fine,” Dean shrugged.  “Sorry, again, about the intruding thing.”  
   
Cas nodded.  “I feel terrible for those bruises.  I’m not a violent person.  I just thought...you know.”  
   
“I know,” Dean assured him.  “And don’t feel bad.  I deserve all the bruises I got.  Serves me right for being so damn nosy.  Besides, it just goes to show Gabe that he can relax a little bit.  Turns out you can defend yourself quite thoroughly.”  Dean gave him a charming grin.  
   
Cas blushed a little, looking down at his shoes.  “I guess I did.”  
   
Dean bit his lip again, feeling even more intrigued by this man.  Most glaringly, how the fuck was he still single?  
   
“I understand you are the famous author known as Dean Smith,” Cas added quietly.  
   
“Yeah,” Dean admitted, squirming at the word ‘famous’.  “Most people around here know.  Me and Chuck were chasing the best-selling list at the same time a few years ago.”  
   
Cas was staring at him again, making Dean want to look away under the scrutiny and feeling drawn in at the same time.  
   
“Are you working on a book now?” Cas asked.  
   
Dean tried to shake the way he wanted to crowd Cas against the doorway and kiss him.  His mouth looked so soft and pliable and the deep, rich voice that was coming out of it was going straight to his dick.  Oooohhh...his mouth on his dick... Dean’s eyes snapped away from him sharply.  New subject!  What were they talking about?  “A book?” Dean blurted, walking a short circle around the living room to inspect the new flooring.  “Yeah.  Two, actually.  One I need to get a move on with and another...” his eyes lifted to take in the ceilings and windowsills, “that just won’t leave me alone.”  
   
“And this house is...what?” Cas asked, all curiosity now.  
   
Dean grinned wide, noting narrow, stained glass windows above each section of window.  “This house is inspiring.  It’s...freaking awesome!  So, I have this creepy ghost story cooking with this house as the main location.”  Dean came to stand next to him again.  “Is that okay?”  People could get weirded out by this kind of thing.  
   
Cas grinned.  “It’s great!  The house has a lot of character.  Tour?” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder with the question.  
   
“Yes!” Dean nodded.  
   
“So,” Cas went on, breaking the spell, “this was the dining room.”  They crossed the entryway, into a large room with a big bay window.  It had a view of high hedges and a narrow side yard.  
   
Graffiti littered these walls as well.  But the stained glass in the upper sections of windows was beautiful.  He could picture a huge table in here, with dinner parties and secret messages being passed across busy tables.  
   
“This is huge.”  
   
“Yes.  Then the kitchen is through here.  Watch yourself, there’s wet paint rollers and a general mess in here.”  
   
Dean followed him into the kitchen.  Black and white checkered flooring ran throughout the large room.  It took up the whole back of the house.  It looked like a booth or breakfast nook could be put at the other end of it, by the back door.  
   
“It has a ‘butler’s closet’,” Cas showed him, opening a door to reveal shelves in a large, walk-in closet.  They fussed over built in bins and bread boxes and cool little nooks for spices and ingredients.  
   
“Sweet,” Dean grinned, “see, I never would have known this was here!”  
   
“Think you will include it in your story?” Cas grinned, tilting his head in an endearing motion that had Dean biting his lip again.  
   
“Oh yeah.”  
   
Coming through the kitchen, they were at the opposite end of the entryway.  
   
“There are closets, and a half bathroom.”    
   
They stood at the foot of the steps, Dean itching to pull out his notepad to take notes.  But he didn’t want to come across as creepy.  Again.  
   
Cas watched him, waiting until Dean’s eyes had taken in the coffered ceilings, trim, doorknobs, light fixtures, and finally back to Cas’ eyes.  Cas grinned, heading up the stairs.  
   
Dean eagerly followed him.  The steps were wide, deep, and solid.  Nothing like the sagging, broken hazard he remembered from his teenage years.  
   
His grin widened at the top of the steps.  “I do remember the hallway.”  It was the scene of getting his ass kicked.  
   
Cas huffed a laugh.  “This is what I called the ‘pelican room’, because there was gaudy pelican wallpaper everywhere.”  
   
“This is the room you just painted.”  Dean stepped inside.  “It looks great!”  
   
“Thank you.”  
   
Dean walked around, noting the trim and huge windows.  “Amazing.”  
   
This room had some odd angles in it, making it very interesting, with little places to tuck a desk or put furniture.  He followed Cas back into the hall, loving the wide open stairway with banisters running two sides of it, giving the second floor a wide open feel.  Cas showed him another bedroom, also freshly painted but that still had a closet covered in duck wallpaper, a bathroom, and a huge storage closet.  
   
They moved onto the third bedroom.  
   
“I call this the pink room,” Cas grinned, opening a door to the third bedroom.  
   
“Oh my God,” Dean winced.    
   
“Everything was pink at one time.  The walls, the floorboards, the baseboards, the door,” Cas pointed up, “the ceiling.”  
   
“Wow.  Can you imagine being sent to your room?  No please! I’ll be good!  Don’t send me to my room!” Dean mimicked the voice of a child.  “It’s like the inside of a Pepto Bismol bottle!”  
   
Cas laughed, making Dean chuckle and really want to hear that again.  He liked when Cas smiled so big until he could see laugh lines crease his eyes.  
   
They went back into the hall, around the stairs, a different set of steps went up in a U at the back of the house.    
   
“Oh man...you can’t see this from the street!  The one tree is blocking this window.  This is...wow...”. A huge stained-glass sunset spanned the width of the doublewide landing.  Deep windowsills and thick, rich woodwork adorned the stairs.  “This is beautiful.”  
   
“Thank you.  I thought so too.  It was the first thing I did when I got here.  Had the boards removed from the outside that were blocking the whole window.  There’s a few pieces missing, but I already have a lady that says she can replace them exactly.  Then I polished the stairs and woodwork.”  
   
“Wow.”  Dean just stood there staring at it for several moments.  “Okay, sorry.”  He shook his head.  “I’m dying to see how the third floor is set up.  It looks like it’s not all one level.”  
   
“You are correct,” Cas grinned, leading the way upstairs.  They came up to a wide, curving hallway that led to the fifth bedroom (which Cas had named the office) and the fourth bedroom (he called it the clock room since it had gaudy clock wallpaper).    
   
“I like this room,” Dean grinned, staring out the front window.  “It’s warm.  And so bright.  It’ll be better when the clocks are gone though, they stress me out.”  
   
Cas chuckled.  “Yes.  It would make a wonderful bedroom.  Or office.”  
   
“These rooms are all so big.  The house looks really tall from outside, but it doesn’t look this big!”  He stared out the window for a moment, looking out over Lawrence.  This room felt like he was on top of the world.  It was peaceful.  
   
Cas nodded.  “I agree.  Now here is my favorite room.”  
   
“Ah,” Dean grinned, following him out of the clock room and back into the hall.  A short flight of four steps went up.  “I thought it looked like it this up here!  I just wasn’t sure.”  
   
Cas opened a wide, old door with a creak.  Sunlight poured through the two huge windows overlooking Anderson Street.  A third, the highest window set in what looked like a turret, faced Vine street.  It was a huge room.  In the corner, perpendicular to the window facing Vine street, was a short counter and sink.  There was a hook-up exposed for an oven.  
   
“What the heck?” Dean wondered aloud.  
   
“It’s a mother-in-law suite,” Cas explained, “but I intend to use it as my master suite.”  
   
“Oh wow,” Dean grinned, looking around the room in a new light.  A box spring and mattress lay on the floor with several layers of blankets piled neatly on top of it.  Several boxes were stowed along the wall and a laptop sat open on the floor.  Cas was sleeping here.  
   
“Look at these huge closets!” Cas went on, crossing the long room to show him two walk-in closets.  “AND!” He pushed open another door, leading into a big bathroom.  The floor was covered in small white tiles with the occasional blue tile.  A huge claw foot tub with a shower rail with a blue and white shower curtain draped around it.  A large ceramic sink was flanked by built-in shelves with lights above them.  An old mirror hung on the wall between them.  
   
“Damn, Cas!  This is...awesome!”  
   
Cas beamed with pride.  He went back out into the bedroom, looking all over the room with a grin.  These walls were covered in thick, white wallpaper with a raised pattern on it.  “I knew I loved the house when I saw the sunrise stained glass window.  But this room...this room sold it.”  He grinned over his shoulder at Dean.  “That, and the cute spice shelves in the pantry.”  
   
Dean laughed.  He walked the length of the room again.  “Are you keeping the kitchen up here?”  
   
“Yeah.  I’ll put in a little fridge too.”  
   
“Sweet!” Dean pumped his fist.  “Sitting area here, bed over there so you can see the fireplace from it, dressers here...man!”  He came to a stop in front of Cas.  “This house is so freakin’ awesome.”  
   
“I’ve tried to tell Gabe that!  But he just doesn’t see it!”  
   
Dean nodded.  “Yeah, well, you have more vision, that’s all!”  
   
Cas turned with enthusiasm lighting his face and energizing his blue eyes.  Dean listened the whole way down to the main floor as Cas talked about what he was doing next.  What projects he had to wait on, which ones he thought he could do himself.  
   
Back to the entryway, Dean sagged with the thought of leaving.  He liked it here.  Even more, he liked Cas.    
   
“Hey, you wanna go for lunch?”  Dean asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, feeling shy suddenly.  
   
“Um...” Cas swallowed, looking a little shy as well.  “I thought you were headed to the library.”  
   
Dean groaned.  “Yeah.  I really should.”  He blew out a breath, letting his lips flap.  He wished he didn’t need to go anywhere.  That he could stay here and explore the house.  And Cas.  
   
Cas was looking back toward the kitchen, looking like he was considering something.  
   
“Oh, I’m sorry, you were probably in the middle of something.  I’ll head out.  Thanks for the tour.”  
   
Cas bit his lip, looking back at him.  “How long will you be at the library?”  
   
Dean started to grin.  “Not long.  I just wanted to research something real quick.”  
   
Cas grinned, reaching for a long trench coat.  “I could do a bit of research myself.  Then lunch?”  
   
Score one for the nerds!  Dean opened the front door with a much better outlook on his day.  They headed down Vine Street toward the high school.  
   
“You like being a high school teacher?” Dean asked.  
   
“I love it.  And I try to explain in every section of math we cover, what jobs use that sort of math.  I love math, but many people cannot relate to the application of it.”  
   
Dean couldn’t stop taking glimpses of Cas’ messy hair.  How it stuck up in a few places just so perfectly.  “I suck at math.  Barely passed it most of the time.”  
   
Cas nodded.  “It’s fun being around teenagers too.  They’re so full of life.  So excited for what will come next.”  
   
“Huh.  I guess none of them mess with you either.  They should know their teacher is secretly a ninja.”  
   
Cas chuckled, tucking his hands into his pockets.  “I am a third degree blackbelt.  I... I felt it very important that I could defend myself.”  
   
Dean nodded, feeling a pang of guilt again.  “Sam told me you were in a home invasion when you were a kid.  Makes sense you would want to defend yourself.  Sorry I made you put your skills so skillfully to the test.”  
   
Cas shook his hand free from his pocket, touching Dean’s sleeve.  “You do not need to apologize for that anymore.  It was a misunderstanding.”  
   
Dean was so tempted to snag his hand in his, hold onto it to feel his warmth and be closer to him.  “I will probably apologize for it as long as I know you.”  
   
Cas’ eyebrows raised.  “Well, if Gabriel has anything to say about it, that will be forever.  I believe he intends to stay with Sam.  I have never seen him so smitten before.”  
   
“Huh,” Dean mused.  “Sam seems pretty serious too.”  
   
   
*********************************  
   
   
They passed the high school, turning onto Monarch Street.  At the end of the block, they crossed the street and went up the big marble steps of the old library.  
   
Castiel always loved the hush that enveloped a library.  The quiet conversations and the shelves of endless information.  He envied writers.  He was not creative enough to ever attempt such a feat as writing a book.  He did, however, have a lot of appreciation for the mystery of creating one.  
   
“I need to go to the reference section,” Dean frowned.  
   
“That’s over here.”  They headed to the left side of the library, parting ways to each research what they needed.  Cas had to use a computer to look up what he wanted, but Dean went straight to a section of huge atlases.  He seemed quite familiar with the library, which didn’t quite add up to the ‘party boy’ Gabriel made him out to be.  
   
Cas found two books he wanted to look at, following the column numbers until he came to a section of do-it-yourself books.  He thumbed through several, settling on two of them.  He found Dean, pouring over large maps of Europe in three atlases, taking notes and even drawing rough pictures of a section of map.  
   
“Germany?” Cas asked quietly.  
   
“This is where most wendigo tales stem from.  But the names of places change, so I had to double-check it.”  
   
“I thought you wrote fiction,” Cas frowned, remembering his first book about a bed and breakfast that was haunted by the spirit of a child.  
   
“I do.”  Dean closed the huge books, putting them back.  “All good stories are rooted in some truths.  That’s what makes them believable.  Even Tolkien’s books are rooted in the Iliad, which is just more lore.  But it’s historically based.”  
   
“Really?” Castiel found Dean endlessly fascinating.  Not just his rough, calloused hands, or his freckles, or his bow legs; but his mind, his creativity, his passion.  
   
He followed Dean as he went to the computer and found another section of books he silently went through.  He took a screenshot of several pages in one and took three more books with him.  
   
They checked their books out and left the hush of the old building.  The rain had stopped, leaving the air damp and chilly.  They walked two blocks up the street to a strip mall that had a Chinese restaurant that appealed to both of them.  
   
Sitting at the table, warmed up with a cup of tea, he could not keep a lid on his curiosity any longer.  “May I ask what you are working on?”  
   
Dean sighed, looking at his books, piled on top of Castiel’s at the end of the table by the wall.  “Wendigos.  It’s about some teenagers going camping and one goes missing, then another.  It’s gonna be good, but I’m having a hell of a time staying focused on it.  Your house has me really distracted.  And if I don’t get my shit together, my editor is going to show up here.  And I love the guy, but I don’t like when he makes house calls.”  
   
Castiel could not imagine such a thing.  “So, what is it you are doing?”  
   
“Storyboarding.  I have to go back to the beginning.  I got really sloppy on this one and now it’s a mess.”  
   
Castiel gave him a curious look.  
   
“At my old place in South Dakota, I used to have a room where I could put up all my shit I was working on.  Spread it all out.  Timelines, research, character clouds, the whole nine yards.  It helps me.  I’m a very visual person.  But Sam doesn’t have the room, so...I don’t know.  Guess I’ll make do.”

“I thought you were only visiting,” Castiel said in way of a question.  Could it be possible Dean was staying?  
   
“I’m moving back here.  I, uh...had a friend there.  A guy named Bobby.”  Dean looked down at his plate, poking his Beef Lo Mein around.  “He was kinda like a dad to me.  Anyway, he passed away last year and... I just didn’t want to stay there anymore.”  
   
Cas immediately felt bad for asking.  Dean’s mood had plummeted so quickly.  “I’m so sorry, Dean.”  
   
“Yeah,” Dean said quietly.  “He was such a good guy.  Grumpy bastard.  But...he kinda...well, he was real good to me.  Sam too.  We’d spend Christmas together and ...”  
   
Castiel stared at his own food.  “I never had a father around.  Not that I remember anyway.  My mom lives back in Illinois with my sister, Anna.  They’re close.  Michael and Raphael live in Chicago, but my mother and Anna live about an hour west of there.  A small town.”  He paused, thinking about his family sadly.  “Gabe was the first one to move away.  I guess I followed him here.”  He looked around the restaurant, a small grin tugging his mouth.  “I like it here.”  
   
“Yeah.”  Dean looked up at him.  “I couldn’t wait to get away.  And I’m glad I did.  Otherwise, I woulda felt like I missed out on something.  But really, wherever you are, it’s about who you’re around.  I’d rather live near Sam.”  
   
They finished their meal quietly, heading back toward the house.  Dean seemed much more contemplative since their talk about his friend.  They stopped at the gate to his house.  
   
“Thanks for the tour,” Dean grinned, shuffling the books under his other arm.  
   
“You’re welcome.  Good luck with your storyboard.”  
   
“Ugh,” Dean sighed.  “Won’t be much of one since there’s nowhere to work.  Guess I’ll use the walls in my room.”  
   
Castiel glanced up at his house.  He had a house full of walls.  Blank walls.  He turned back to Dean with some excitement.  “You could work here!  I have heat now.  And there are plenty of rooms to choose from.”  
   
Dean grinned.  He had many grins and Cas enjoyed them all.  This one was boyish with a sparkle in his eye and a lightness that made Cas grin right back.  “Naw, you’re a busy guy.”  
   
“You would have plenty of privacy!” Cas insisted.  “You certainly can’t damage the walls!”  
   
Dean chuckled, looking up at the house.  “Really?”  
   
“Absolutely!  I won’t bother you.  I have plenty to keep me busy.”  
   
“Are you sure I wouldn’t be in the way?” Dean asked, looking back at him.    
   
“If two men can’t work together in three floors of space, there must be a problem.”  Cas pushed at the gate, but of course it didn’t budge.  He slipped into the front yard anyway.  “I have Wi-Fi!  And coffee!”  
   
“Damn,” Dean grinned.  “If you’re sure you don’t mind...”  
   
“I’m sure.  It would be good to have someone around.  Besides, I go back to work on Monday.  Then you could have the whole house to yourself.”  
   
“If I set up in one of the rooms you’re not working on...that would be great!  But it could be awhile.  Writing is kind of an unpredictable process.”  He eyed the third floor with a wistful look.  
   
“It’s settled then,” Castiel grinned, making up his mind for both of them.  It was the perfect reason to have Dean stay.  And even though Gabe had asked him to not get involved, he could not help himself.  
   
“If you’re absolutely sure,” Dean grinned, “then I’ll go get my stuff.”  
   
“Just come on in when you get back,” Cas grinned, taking his books.  
   
Dean blanched.  “I’ll knock and yell my arrival, so I don’t get the Karate Kid.”  
   
“No karate,” Cas grinned, heading up the sidewalk backwards.  “Just...come on in.”  He turned, heading up the steps.  Dean laughed, heading around the corner toward Sam’s house.  
   
He went inside staring around his entryway.  The house might have him living paycheck to paycheck already, and he might be waking up sore and stiff every morning, but right now, every bit of it was worth it.  Dean was as enamored with this place as he was.  He sat the books on the bottom step and headed to the kitchen.  He was two and a half hours behind on painting.  He quickly organized his materials and headed upstairs to get to work on finishing the pelican room.  He covered the floor of the room carefully, moving the paint pan into the middle of the room.  Painting ceilings was his least favorite job.  It was messy and had little reward.    
   
“I’m back!” He heard Dean yell from the door.  Castiel grinned at the roller brush in his hands.  
   
“Up here!” He yelled.  
   
He met Dean in the hall.  He watched as Dean sat a leather satchel and a backpack on the floor.  “Which room should I use?” He asked, looking flushed from hurrying and damp from rain.  
   
“Anyone.  I mean, anywhere.”  Cas cleared his throat.    
   
Dean rubbed his hands together, looking toward the steps to the third floor.  He gave Cas another new grin.  Partly shy, partly excited, mostly totally psyched to run up the steps and claim that room at the front of the house.  Castiel had to laugh.  
   
“I’m just gonna...” he tipped both thumbs toward the stairs.  
   
“Go ahead,” Cas grinned, unable to tear his eyes away.  
   
“The clock room?” Dean cheesed.  
   
“It’s all yours,” Cas grinned so hard his cheeks hurt.  
   
Dean tripped up the steps and out of sight.  
   
Laughing, Cas picked up Dean’s satchel.  Damn.  He had a satchel.  So nerdy.  So fucking hot.  He picked up the backpack as well, heading up the steps.  He passed the office, heading into the clock room to find Dean standing in the center of it with his hands on his hips.  His jeans were just tight enough to promise a well-sculpted ass beneath them.  His blue flannel hung loose enough to give Cas access to the smooth skin beneath it, if only he could run his hands up under it.  
   
Dean turned.  “Dude!  You didn’t have to lug that shit up here!  I was just excited to see this room again.”  He pulled the satchel from Cas’ shoulder.  “You’re already letting me use this room, you didn’t have to carry this up here.”  
   
Cas grinned.  “Nice satchel.”  
   
Dean narrowed his eyes, smirking.  “I know it’s nerdy as fuck.  Sam got it for me.  Mostly just to fuck with me.  But...it’s pretty damn handy.”  
   
Castiel bit his lip, stifling a laugh.  It was pretty fucking hot, but if Dean only thought he was teasing him, it might be better.  Gabe had been perfectly clear.  He rarely asked him for anything.  He should at least try to not hit on the man within the first day of hanging out with him.  
   
Dean took the backpack, his smirk deepening.  “You don’t have much room to talk.  Mr. Novak, math whiz.”  
   
Castiel chuckled.  “You’re going to need some furniture.  We can move my desk in here, if you want.”  
   
“Nah, I’m good.  I saw a folding table in the kitchen.  Can I use that?”  
   
“Sure.”  
   
They headed down to the kitchen.  Dean picked up the square folding table leaning against a wall, so Cas took one of the kitchen chairs.  Back up to the clock room, Dean set the table close to one of the walls.  
   
Dean stood back.  “You sure you don’t care about the wallpaper in here?”  
   
“The more you cover it up, the better it will look, I’m sure.  It’ll be fine.”  
   
“Let me know when you get hungry,” Dean said, already distracted with a stack of papers in his hands, eyeing the wall.  “I’ll buy dinner.  I owe you big for this.  And, ya know, not having me arrested.”  
   
Castiel shook his head.  Dean had no idea how just watching him was payment enough.  He left him to his thoughts, going back to the second floor to start painting.  
 

 


	5. When Sparks Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’d say we are moving from fluff to steam. Mmmm mmm!  
> Sam and Gabe take some steps in their relationship.  
> Dean and Cas THINK about taking steps in their relationship.

Chapter 5:  When Sparks Fly  
   
   
Sam was at Gabe’s when he got home from work.  It was Saturday and they had plans to spend the day together.  It was an added bonus that when his boyfriend got home from work, he smelled like cinnamon and sugar.  
   
Good enough to eat.  
   
Gabe pushed his bedroom door open, grinning a mile wide.  “Oh baby!”  
   
Sam blushed, grinning and turning away with a little shyness.  He was stretched out, naked, and waiting for Gabe.  
   
“It’s not even my birthday!” Gabe marveled, his eyes roving all over Sam’s naked body.  “Are you even for real?”  
   
“I hope so, or this is gonna be over in a blink,” Sam grinned.  
   
Gabe tugged his shirt off, his belt and jeans going next, tripping as he shoved his shoes and socks off.  He crawled onto the bed, coming straight to lay a hungry kiss on Sam’s mouth.  
   
“God, you smell so friggin’ good,” Sam mumbled against his skin, licking and sucking down his neck.  
   
“You smell like Sam.  And rain.”  Gabe pulled back, straddling Sam’s lap, already hardening.  He ran his hands along Sam’s chest.  “Before we...get started,” he grinned nervously.  “I wanted to tell you something.”  
   
Sam ran a hand down his upper arm, making his skin erupt in little goosebumps.  “What?” Sam asked.  Nervous wasn’t something Gabe often, if ever, looked.  “What is it?”  
   
“It’s you, Sam.  I have to tell you that I love you.  I just want you to know that...I am head over heels in love with you.”  He blushed hard and had difficulty keeping eye contact.  
   
Sam, shocked, sat up slowly, keeping Gabe on his lap.  Gabe loved him!  This wild, popular, fun-loving guy was in love with HIM?  He fought to stop from saying anything until Gabe looked at him again.  
   
“Gabe, I love you too.”  
   
Gabe grinned, leaning in to kiss him slow and warm.  
   
Sam wrapped his arms around him, feeling his way around and up Gabe’s back, drawing him in so close their chests pressed together and Gabe had to tilt his head to accommodate the lack of space between them.  His mouth opened and Sam delved inside.  He tasted as sweet as he smelled.  Sam turned him, putting Gabe on his back easily, fitting himself over the smaller man as he dove deeper and hungrier into his mouth.  
   
He pulled back, breathing heavier.  “I love you so much.”  
   
Gabe grinned, leaning up to kiss him again as his hands stretched open on his back and scratched his skin firmly enough to make Sam groan and grind his hips into him.  
   
“Sam,” Gabe panted, dropping his head back, “I want you.”  
   
The words were unnecessary, but felt like creaming butter into sugar, smooth and sweet.  Sam got onto his knees, his mouth trailing hot and biting down Gabe’s neck and torso to lick a stripe up his bobbing, hard cock.  
   
“Sam,” Gabe groaned, spreading his knees.  Sam went to work opening him slow and thorough.  By the time he slid inside, Gabe was shaking.  
   
He waited, watching Gabe’s face change from concentration, to want, to need.  His golden eyes opened with a plea on his lips.  “Move, Sam, move, I...”. His head ground back into the pillow as his ass tipped upward to chase his withdrawal.  As he slammed back in, Gabe grabbed his own knees to keep himself open.  
   
Sam began a steady pace, watching every fleeting emotion that passed over Gabe’s expressive face.  He blushed beautifully and Sam stopped to kiss him deeply.  
   
“Mmmm,” Gabe whined, canting his hips.  
   
Sam got back up to his hands with a predatory grin.  “So impatient,” he teased.  
   
“So fucking full,” Gabe panted, digging his heels into Sam’s ass.  “Faster, baby, move.”  
   
Sam grinned, pinning Gabe to the mattress with a firm grip on his shoulder as he set a steady, hard, fast pace.  
   
He loved how Gabe squirmed, clawed, panted, begged, clung, and gave every bit of himself.  No shame.  No shyness.  No hang-ups.  Mouthy and impatient.

Sam sped up, losing his thoughts to the tight heat wrapped around his dick.  Need taking over as he drove harder and faster, making Gabe moan into a loud crescendo until his hand was scrambling to get between them to stroke himself.  He came hard, rocking and quaking around his dick.  Sam gasped, pulling out to come on him.  Gabe gasped, stroking himself with another whine as Sam’s cum splashed onto his hand, mixing with his own on his chest and abdomen.  
   
“Fuck,” Gabe sagged, letting his dick go to reach for Sam’s, sticky and covered in both of their releases.  “So fucking good.”  
   
“Yeah,” Sam grinned, gasping as Gabe stroked him twice, long and slow.  “Gabe.”  
   
Gabe grinned, his eyes coming open dreamily as his hand dropped.    
   
“I love you,” Sam said, loving how it felt to be able to say it out loud.  
   
“Love you more.”  Gabe grinned hard, pulling Sam down on top of him, making them both groan at the mess between them.  
   
“Not possible,” Sam murmured into Gabe’s mouth.  Gabe was his.  Sweet and honest.  Open and loud.  His.  All his.  “I can’t get enough of you,” he laughed, tucking his nose into Gabe’s neck to tease and smell him.  “You smell like cinnamon rolls.”  
   
Gabe laughed, pulling away from his invading tongue.  “Yeah?  Why don’t you eat me then?”  
   
“Oh, I will,” Sam laughed, pulling up to watch him.  “We have all night.  All day tomorrow.”  
   
“All weekend?” Gabe asked, lighting up.  “Thought you were spending time with Dean?”  
   
Sam turned onto his side, letting Gabe tangle himself into him.  “He’s moving here.”  
   
“What?” Gabe’s head popped up.  “When?”  
   
“Now.  I don’t know what all happened.  But I think he wanted to come home to be closer to me.”  
   
Gabe frowned.  “He better quit scaring my brother.”  
   
Sam grinned sweetly, pushing a lock of hair out of Gabe’s face.  “I guess we should introduce them properly.  Dean’s always had a thing for that house.  I’m sure once he gets to see it, he’ll get over it.”  
   
“I already told Cassie that Dean is off limits.  It weirds me out that they were eye fucking once they were done beating each other up.”  
   
Sam laughed.  “Dean’s not a relationship kind of guy.  There’s no way him and Cas would hook up.  Cas isn’t like that.”  
   
Gabe propped up on one elbow.  “He’s lucky he still has a pulse.  I seriously was ready to kill him.”  
   
Sam’s grin sobered.  “Cas handled himself just fine.  And Dean didn’t mean to scare him. He would never do anything like that on purpose.  We should have them over for dinner on Sunday.  I mean...they should at least meet properly since...”  
   
Gabe grinned.  “Since what?”  
   
“Since I’m ridiculously in love with you and plan on spending more time with you.”  
   
Gabe chuckled.  “I like the sound of that.”  
   
Sam sat up, hearing someone come in the door downstairs.  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  “I hear someone downstairs.”  
   
“Oh yeah.  Balthazar.  I’m surprising you with dinner.  Surprise!” Gabe chuckled.  
   
Sam pulled the sheet over his exposed privates.  “What?  What’s he doing here?”  
   
Gabe sat up, sitting next to him.  “Making us a romantic dinner.  Waiting on us hand and foot.”  He stood up, stretching, with no qualms about being naked.  
   
“I was planning on telling you I love you over shrimp and steak,” Gabe winked.  
   
Sam laughed.  “You still can.”  
   
Gabe chuckled with dirty pleasure.  “I’m getting a shower.  Care to join me?”  
   
“Not with Balthazar here!” Sam squawked.  
   
“Please!” Gabe laughed hedonistically, throwing the bedroom door open.  “Balth!”  
   
“Yes, love?” Balthazar called from somewhere below.  
   
“Don’t come upstairs!  Sam and I are naked!”  
   
Sam smacked his forehead, dying a little inside.  
   
“Lovely then,” came Balthazar’s voice.  
   
“You are such a dick,” Sam scoffed, throwing a discarded t-shirt at Gabe in the hall.  He laughed, ducking it, his dick swinging freely, blowing Sam an impish kiss.  
   
Sam fell over backwards laughing.  He loved that punk.  And the punk loved him too.  
   
   
   
*****************************************************  
   
   
   
Dean stared hard at the character profile he had pinned to the wall.  His main lead female was shaping up, but the side character, her friend, was too bitchy.  He needed to rework her personality.  Or give her a better back story.  There was hard, and then there was just being a bitch.  
   
His stomach growled loudly, and he smelled hamburgers.  He pulled himself away from the trail of papers, jumping slightly.  “Cas!”  
   
Cas chuckled, lifting an arm with a huge white bag of take-out food clutched in his hand.  Drinks in the other.  “Hungry?”  
   
Dean’s stomach growled again.  “Yes!  You got food?”  
   
“I did.  I was hungry and I figured you would be too.  I asked you, but you didn’t answer.”  
   
“Sorry,” Dean ran a hand over the back of his neck with embarrassment.  “I can get really sucked in.”  
   
Cas’ eyes ran the walls of the room.  “This is all so...fascinating.  It’s like I get to see inside your head.  See how you build people and the story.”  He lowered his eyes to the food.  “Sorry, maybe that’s impolite.  I shouldn’t be nosy.”  
   
Dean grinned.  Cas was fucking adorable.  He looked around the room the way he must have looked around Cas’ house this morning.  “You can look all you want.”  
   
Cas’ eyes flicked to his as he pressed his lips together.  
   
Dean grinned, meaning that statement any way Cas wanted to take it.  
   
“So,” Dean stepped forward, taking the two drinks, “you went out like that?”  He couldn’t fight a huge grin.  
   
“I did.  Why?”  Cas tipped his head in curiosity.  
   
Dean melted inside.  Who the hell was this guy?  And where had he been all his life?  Dean knew he was blushing.  His chest felt tight and he wanted to kiss him so bad he could picture it ten different ways.  Instead, he licked his lips and sat the drinks on the table.  “You have paint in your hair and -” Dean pointed with a grin, “on your neck.”  
   
Cas’ mouth dropped.  “Damnit.  I tried to get it all off.  I painted the ceiling in the pelican room, and it gets everywhere.”  Befuddled, he sat the bag of food on the floor, pulling his coat off.  When he turned around, Dean burst out laughing.  Cas dropped his coat in a heap by the door.  He turned back to Dean, blushed red and holding his arms out.  “What?”  
   
Dean bent over laughing, trying not to be a jerk, but he was so fucking cute he couldn’t take it!  Stemming the laughter, he stood up straight, sighing.  “Come ‘ere.”  
   
Cas stepped toward him.  Daylight had long since faded and Cas had kept bringing him lights to keep him working in a well-lit room.  The lights gave Cas’ skin a pink, warm glow, elongating his dark lashes in the shadow it cast.  His hair looked as black as ink in the lamplight.  Except the drips and stripes of white in it.  
   
Dean reached around putting his hand on the back of Cas’ head, tipping it down gently.  White paint drizzled through the back of it, one stream frozen down his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.  Other splatters and drips marked the back of his shirt.  He was acutely aware of how soft and silky Cas’ hair felt in his fingers.  Wanting more, he slid his hand, pulling at a blob of white paint, sliding it off the end of the strands.  As he lifted his hand away, Cas tipped his head back up, his blue eyes wide and watchful.  
   
Dean pulled his hand around, rolling the paint between his thumb and fingers.  “Paint,” he said dumbly, noting how Cas’ lips looked so soft and plushy, like they would be heaven to fall into.  
   
“I didn’t realize,” Cas said, blinking the moment away, running a hand through his hair, frowning.  He stepped back, glancing at him shyly.  “Better eat before it gets cold.”  
   
“Yeah,” Dean snapped back into gear, answering a bit too loudly.  “I’m starving.  Shit!”  He froze, frowning at Cas.  “I was supposed to buy dinner.  Not you.”  
   
Cas grinned.  “You were preoccupied.  I figured if I didn’t get you something, you would work straight through the night.”  
   
“Mm.  Probably,” Dean admitted.  Glancing around, they both just sat on the floor.  “Still wish you woulda let me buy.”  
   
“You can buy tomorrow,” Cas shrugged, giving him a hopeful grin.  
   
“Yeah?” Dean chuckled.  Yeah.  Tomorrow.  And the next day.  And as long as he was working on this book.  As long as Cas let him work here.  
   
He tried not to stare at the drips of paint on his shoulders and the one that ran along his clavicle.  And he tried not to be so sappy to think this felt like a picnic.  They talked about food they liked and then Cas began to ask about the book surrounding them on three walls.  
   
By the time their food was gone, and drinks were drained, Dean was telling Cas everything about his wendigo book.  
   
“It’s her,” he pointed at the profile of his lead female’s best friend.  “She’s a bitch.”  
   
Cas chuckled.  “I like her.”  It was totally frank and laid back as his eyes reread the papers about Meg.  
   
“What’s to like?” Dean scoffed.  “She’s about as cuddly as a cactus.”  
   
Cas nodded.  “Sometimes they make the best characters.  Why is she so bitter?  Who wronged her?  She makes me curious.” He turned to Dean.  “I want to know more about her.”  
   
“You do?” Dean whispered, entranced with the fact that Cas was so interested.  He asked good questions.  Noticed details.    
   
“I do,” Cas added, giving him a small grin.  He patted Dean on the shoulder.  “This is amazing, Dean.  All of it.”  He picked up the bag of trash, heading toward the doorway.  He stopped, turning back.  “I hope to hear more tomorrow.  Of feisty Meg.”  He gave Dean a lopsided smile.  “She’s hot.”  
   
“What?” Dean scoffed.  “I don’t even have a picture of her!”  
   
Cas chuckled.  “It says so in the description.  And I can see her as plain as day.”  
   
Dean’s grin was frozen.  It was his favorite sort of compliment.  That he could create something or someone that others could see...that was magical.  
   
Cas had walked away, but Dean found himself staring out at the empty hallway.  “Damn,” he mumbled.  He turned back to Meg.  He tried to shake off his growing crush on Cas.  He needed to focus.  
   
He stared at Meg’s profile.  Red-head.  Creamy white skin.  Petite and curvy in all the flattering places.  Smirk like a shark and voice sinfully playful.  “Who wronged you...” he mused.  A man, dark and sinister.  A boss.  An authority figure.  Dark scenes of torture formed in his mind.  His eyes traveled over his other characters.  A note from Crowley caught his eye on an edited paper that he had mailed back to him.  A British baddy?  Hmm.  
   
   
***********************************  
   
   
Castiel stretched his aching shoulders.  He had the pink room prepped to paint the ceiling for the next day.  He had gotten behind today.  But it had been worth it.  He had one more day of vacation left before going back to work Monday morning.  He shut off the lights in the large bedroom, heading around the stairs to peek in on Dean.  He was typing away on his laptop.  He came into the room quietly, seeing a new sheet of notes on Meg.  He grinned softly, hoping he had been of some help with the character.  
   
Dean looked up at him, taking a deep breath.  “Hey.”  
   
“Hello.”  He tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, an old nervous habit.  There was something so intimate about their new arrangement.  He wondered if it was because Dean was off limits or because the pair had an easy chemistry.  
   
“Shit.  What time is it?” Dean groaned sleepily, stretching.  
   
Castiel let his eyes linger on the strip of skin that was briefly visible during the man’s stretch.  “Um...” he pulled his phone out.  “12:15.”  
   
Dean blew out a long breath.  “I should go.  I’m sure you want to get to bed.”  He started unplugging his laptop.  
   
Castiel wanted to offer him a place to sleep so he could stay.  But all he had was his twin-size bed on the floor of his bedroom.  “I could give you my mattress,” he thought aloud, thinking he could make do on the boxspring for a night.  
   
Dean stood up from sliding his laptop into his satchel.  His grin grew slowly as his dark green eyes took him in.  “No, Cas,” he said softly.  
   
Castiel nodded, embarrassed he had suggested it at all.  “I just thought...you could keep working...I mean, you don’t have to go.”  
   
Dean laughed with a little amused huff.  “You tryin’ to get me to stay the night?”  
   
Castiel blushed.  Oh...if only.  
   
Dean grinned, putting the satchel over his shoulder.  He was an absolute contradiction in nerdy with his satchel, and tough-guy with his green army surplus jacket, flannel, t-shirt, and jeans.  He was impossible to not stare at.  
   
Castiel refused to give in completely on the idea of Dean staying.  He settled for exchanging a teasing grin.  
   
Dean started turning the lights off, both of them leaving the room.  They walked down the steps to the front door.  
   
“Will you be coming back tomorrow?” Castiel asked, trying to not sound as petulant as he felt.  
   
“Yeah.”  Dean adjusted the leather bag with a grin toying at his lips.  This one was ornery but holding back whatever words threatened to tease him.    
   
Castiel nodded.  “See you tomorrow then.”  
   
Dean nodded, the grin fading to something sadder.  “Thanks for letting me work here.  It was perfect.”  
   
“Anytime,” Castiel said thickly, meaning it.    
   
Dean grinned a little stronger.  “Can I, uh, get your number?”  
   
Castiel broke out into a wide grin.  “Yes!  Of course!”  
   
They both pulled their phones out.  Castiel recited his number while Dean put him in his contacts under ‘Cas’ with a guy in a karate gi.  He texted him.  
   
Unknown number:  Hi.  Nice hair!  
   
Castiel laughed, knowing he still had paint in his hair.  He added Dean as a contact with a brown satchel.  
   
Cas:  Likewise.  
   
Dean smirked.  “See ya tomorrow, Cas.”  
   
Castiel nodded, watching him walk through the door, down the porch steps and out to the sidewalk, side-stepping through the stubborn gate.  He pulled his coat closer around his mouth, blocking the wind and rain.  
   
Castiel closed and locked the door, leaning against it with a sigh.  Today had been a very good day.  
   
   
*******************************************  
   
   
Sam came into the house, dropping his bag by the door.  “Dean?” He yelled.  
   
He heard the shower running and went upstairs to the hall.  “Dean?”  
   
“Yeah!  Be out in a few!”  
   
Sam took his bag to his room to unpack.  He heard the front door open and close downstairs.  He grinned when Gabe came into his room, plopping a bag by the door.  “Long time, no see.”  
   
Sam grinned, kissing him again.  He and Gabe had had an insanely romantic weekend of sex and sweet talk and in general, reaching a point that Sam had never been at before.  He had relationships that had lasted longer than the point he and Gabe were at now, but none that had burned as hot.  A night apart was unthinkable after the weekend they had.  
   
Guilt drove him to come home.  Dean had probably spent the entire weekend buried in his room.  Knowing him, the walls were covered with shit that looked like something from A Beautiful Mind.  He may or may not have eaten in the last two days, and he’d probably still be sucked into his wendigo story.  
   
It was late Sunday evening, and he had to work in the morning.  He had meant to have Dean and Cas over to Gabe’s for dinner...but they had not managed to be fit to be around anyone else until about twenty minutes ago.  
   
“So, is Dean going to move in here?” Gabe asked, flopping onto Sam’s bed.  
   
“Probably.  Until he gets his own place, anyway.”  
   
“I’d say he could stay at my place, but Cas still uses it once or twice a week and I’m not sure the two of them would get along too well.”  
   
Sam frowned.  “I think they would.  Pretty sure there was chemistry there when they figured out they didn’t need to kill each other.”  
   
“No,” Gabe shook his head, sitting up.  “That would be hella weird.  We’re brothers.  Too much sibling mingling for my liking.”  
   
Sam laughed.  “I thought so too, at first.  But...who cares.  If they like each other then who are we to judge?”  
   
“Ah, I’m the big brother.  It’s my genetic coding to judge.  Cassie can’t be banging my boyfriend’s brother.  That is too close for comfort.”  
   
“Gabe,” Sam laughed, “You’re being ridiculous!”  
   
Gabe shrugged.  “It doesn’t matter.  Cas is one of the most untrusting saps I’ve ever known.  He’s had a whopping two relationships and both of them ended with him indifferent to the outcome.”  
   
“Huh.”  That did give Sam pause.  “Dean’s had tons of relationships.  He has hopped from one to the next but they never last long.  Actually, now that I think about it...it’s been awhile since I heard about any.”  
   
“Well, I don’t want Cassie to be the next one on his list.”  
   
Sam frowned, not liking the judgement in Gabe’s voice.  “Well, I wouldn’t want him hurt by someone who doesn’t care if he’s in a relationship or not.  Cas sounds pretty cold.”  
   
Gabe’s easy demeanor darkened.  “I didn’t say he was cold.”  
   
Sam shrugged.  “I didn’t say Dean was easy.”  
   
They stared at one another, not liking where this conversation was leading.  Sam didn’t like that Gabe was still pissy about Dean having been the one who broke into Cas’ house.  It was just an accident.  But that particular area was still a sore spot.  
   
He sighed, knowing this was not the time for a deeper conversation about it.  But sooner or later, Gabe was going to have to let it go.  It mattered to him more than he cared to admit that his significant other got along with Dean.  The more he thought about it, it probably was not a good idea if his brother dated Gabe’s.  If it didn’t work out, and it sounded like the chances were poor for it to do so, then it would only be more awkward later.  
   
“Sam?” Dean called.  
   
“Yeah,” Sam answered automatically, going out into the hall.  “Hey!  How are you?”  
   
“Good.  Beat.  Spent the entire day on the wendigo book.  I’m headed to bed.”  
   
“Oh, okay.  Um, Gabe’s here, just so ya know.”  
   
Dean ducked his head into Sam’s room.  “Hey!”  
   
“Hi!” He heard Gabe answer.  
   
Dean leaned back to where he was in the hall.  “This a regular thing?”  
   
“Uh, it’s starting to be,” Sam grinned tightly, still not quite comfortable with the conversation he’d just had with Gabe.  
   
Dean’s eyes narrowed.  With a quieter voice, he asked, “You good?”  
   
“Yeah!” Sam grinned.  “Real good!”  
   
Dean glanced at his bedroom.  “I’ll start lookin’ for my own place next week.  That okay?”  
   
“Hey,” Sam furrowed his brow in worry, “there’s no rush, Dean.  Stay as long as you want.”  
   
Dean nodded, looking like he was going to say more, but he glanced at the bedroom again.  “Night, Sam.”  
   
Sam watched as Dean went into his room and closed the door.  He let the moment go, but there was definitely more to be said.    
   
He went into his own room, closing the door.  He lay awake a long time, still glad to be holding Gabe close to him.  He had faith that this would work out.  And that Dean was okay.  He would fix it all tomorrow night.  
   
   
******************************************  
   
   
“Sooo, was it all you dreamed it would be?” Balthazar grinned.  
   
“Yes, it was, cousin.  I am officially in love,” Gabe announced, Claire clapping dryly.  She hung her apron on a hook by the kitchen door.  
   
“Thank you!” Gabe beamed, never letting Claire slow his roll.  “And he said it back!  Love is on the menu, people!”  
   
The few customers there gave him an entertained look. “Congratulations!” Mabel said, nodding with an eager grin.  The chick was going on ninety-something and still flirted like a teenager.  
   
“Thank you, Mabel!” Gabe came around the corner, sweeping her up in a waltz to Kiss from a Rose by Seal (which was playing over the speakers), making her squeal with joy as they danced two full loops around the cafe.  
   
“He’s moving in on your girl!” Bert yelled to Mabel’s husband.  
   
“Sorry, Ed!” Gabe laughed, leaving Mabel with him.  He spun around the end of the counter, snatching Claire next, dragging her through a waltz.  
   
“Well, isn’t love grand,” Balthazar grinned.  
   
Claire laughed, stumbling again.  Gabe stopped, sighing with a laugh.  “Get outta here kid before you’re late for school.”  
   
“Thank God,” she laughed.  “You losers are -”  
   
“Magnificent?” Gabe cut in, grinning hard.  
   
“Uh. No.  Bye, losers.”  She left out the side door, still grinning.  
   
“Where does she get her sass?” Balthazar grinned.  
   
“I don’t know.  It’s rampant here.  Must be in the sugar!” Gabe laughed.  
   
Balthazar finished putting tarts in the case.  “It certainly is good to see you happy.”  
   
“Me?” Gabe laughed, “I’m always happy!”  
   
Balthazar stood back with his quiet charm.  “How about a latte?”  
   
Gabe grinned, going to work.  He was happy.  Happier than he had been in a long time.  Maybe ever.  And maybe he needed to ease up on Sam about Dean.  He had liked the guy up until he was the reason his baby brother was shaking in his socks and sent the pair of them to DEFCON 1.  And yeah, that was Dean’s fault.  But...he hadn’t meant it.  But seeing Cassie bruised and scared was more than he could shake yet.    
   
But he could try.  
   
For Sam.  
   
   
 *****************************************

 

Monday evening, Castiel had a lot of work to catch up on from his week off. He climbed the steps to his porch and unlocked the door. It felt really good to be home.

He smirked a grin to himself. He had a home. Of his very own. He sat his book bag on the first step and went to the kitchen. There was half a pot of warm coffee.

His face lit up. Dean was here.

He went up the steps two at a time, anxious to see his new friend. As he rounded the stained glass landing, he tried to temper his silly grin to something more platonic. “Dean! I’m home!”

Getting no answer did not surprise him. Dean tended to work in long, concentrating bouts of focus. It was mesmerizing to see. He stepped into the doorway, seeing Dean standing at the wall, his back to him as he stared up at his wall of information. His feet were slightly spread, his thumbs hooked into his waistband.

His ass in those jeans was almost more than he could take. He let out a tiny puff of air as his dick stirred to attention quickly. He wanted to cross the room and wrap his arms around him from behind. Kiss his neck. Castiel could almost feel his hands running along Dean’s smooth skin under the t-shirt he wore. He was already familiar with every curve of Dean’s lips from staring at them. He could imagine how good they would feel as he turned him around, pushed him against the wall, papers fluttering to the floor. He’d grip him by the wrists and hold him tight as he ground his dick into Dean’s.

Fuck!

He wiped a hand over his mouth, almost gasping at the scene in his head. He pulled his coat closed over his obvious erection and knocked on the door.

Dean turned, startled out of his world. “Hey!”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean grinned. He started to say something but only cocked his head slightly. Seeming to change gears, he said, “How was school?”

Castiel stepped backward, out of the room as Dean came toward him. “Good. Busy.”

Dean leaned in the doorway as Castiel backed into the hall wall.

“I can pack up and head to Sam’s.”

Castiel thought that was probably the best plan. But it certainly wasn’t what he wanted. “Stay. For dinner. I was going to make, um...I’m gonna run out and pick something up.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “One condition.”

“Conditions?” Castiel smirked, stepping away from the wall. “Alright.”

“I’m buying.”

Castiel could care less who bought. He chuckled softly. “Deal.”

Dean’s grin was payment enough. This one was full of victory with a hint of orneriness. He went to his room to change. 

Castiel thought he may have gone overboard with his dinner, but Dean, per usual, fit right into place. He hadn’t meant for the meal to be as romantic as it was. He just figured they could eat in front of the fireplace in the living room. He didn’t want them to sit on the hard floor, so he put a blanket down.

It seemed reasonable.

Conversation was so easy with Dean. He was full of interesting stories and asked a lot of questions. He was particularly excited about the new bad guy in Meg’s past, filling him in on detailed back-story that probably wouldn’t even make it into the book. 

As they sat there in a lull of conversation, Dean leaned back onto his elbows, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. 

“What do the kids call you at school?” Dean looked up at him, searching his face in a most tender moment.

Cas, looking down at him, stared. It was so hard not to stare. “Mr. Novak.”

Dean’s lips pressed together before sliding into a grin.

Castiel chuckled. “What else would they call me?”

Dean shrugged. “Cas. Mr. Cas. Mr. N. Professor Novak.” Dean licked his lips, biting the lower one and letting his teeth slide over it enticingly. “Sir.”

That last one hit Castiel with unexpected pleasure. If Dean so much as uttered the word ‘sir’ in his direction again, he was seriously going to fuck him right here and now.

But he couldn’t. They were friends and their brothers were dating. And every time they were together, Cas cared less about either of those things.

But... 

He picked up his trash from dinner, getting to his feet. “Just Mr. Novak.” He left the room, fearing he would do so much more than just kiss Dean. 

By the time he had himself breathing normal again, Dean had picked up his trash, thrown it away and was back upstairs working.

Anticipation was a good thing, right? The two had only known each other a few days. Surely he should get to know him better. He had never slept with someone he knew for this short of a time. 

He turned the heat up, hoping Dean was not chilly upstairs. He went into the pink room and began running the sander over the pink painted floor.

Labor. That’s what he needed. His hands busy and mind occupied. His school work would have to wait.

 

*************************************

 

Dean’s eyes burned. He closed his laptop and packed it up for the night. Sam might come home tonight, so he should at least attempt to say hi.

He gathered his notes and tucked his glasses he kept hidden from Cas into his satchel. It was warmer in here tonight and it was making him sleepy. He pulled his coat on, donned his satchel, and followed the sound of the sander to say goodnight to Cas.

Ah, the pink room. Poor guy. This room was really gonna be a bear to strip.

Dean stepped in the open doorway, jaw dropping. Cas was on his hands and knees with no fucking shirt on.

Boots, jeans, splattered with paint chips. Boxers peeking out the gap his jeans provided as they rode low on his hips. Smooth skin, spattered with pink chips that clung to his sweaty skin. 

He was on his knees, hand sander to a stubborn spot on the floor. His muscles bunched and extended with each push. Dean was hard as granite so fast he got a head-rush.

“Ohhh fuck,” he muttered, shifting his satchel to cover the raging boner in his jeans.

The sander stopped and Cas sat back, shoving his safety glasses back and wiping his face.

There was a tool belt near Cas’ feet. 

Dean gulped. The imagery alone had his hands shaking.

He wanted to attack Cas from behind. Ride him until they were both covered in paint chips.

Cas’ shoulders tensed. He turned, seeing Dean standing there.

Oh fuck.

Dean closed his mouth as Cas got to his feet. His chest was covered in paint chips. His jeans were ruined for sure. Shame. He should tear them off for him. It would be a kind gesture to help rid him of them.

“Dean,” Cas said.

Dean’s eyes jumped back to his face. Back to his chest, his crotch, his chest, and oh yeah, his face. “Yeah?”

Cas’ eyes darkened. He grinned slowly and took a few steps toward him.

Something in the power of his pause and the greedy look in his eyes made Dean want to drop to his knees and present his own ass for Cas.

His dick surged so hard he had to swallow hard to choke back a fucking whimper.

“I gotta go,” he managed.

Cas tilted his head, his eyes trickling down Dean’s frontage. “Are you sure?”

Oh fuck. Fuck. No, he wasn’t sure! Yes, he was sure! He better leave right the fuck now or this hook-up was gonna hook the fuck up. And then what? What came next? A relationship? He stepped backwards.

“Lookin’ good, in here, the room. It’s, uh...really comin’ along. So...yeah. I’m gonna...go.”

Cas nodded, watching him so fucking close. Why did he do that? It was like Cas saw more than the normal person saw. Like he was looking inside him. Through his clothes, at least.

“I gotta...wow.” He winced at the ‘wow’. “Go. I’m gonna go. Now.” He waved. Waved! Like a ten year old! What the fuck was that? He berated himself down the stairs and out the door.

It wasn’t until he got into his room at Sam’s that it occurred to him that Cas looked as shook as he did.

He took a cold shower. He had some decisions to make. Using his head. Not the one in his pants, for once. He had sworn to himself he was going to keep his shit together here. This town was Sam’s turf now. He wasn’t going to do anything rash.

Sam wasn’t home, so he gave himself the fifteen minutes in the shower he needed to get over that scene in the pink room. And dinner. He never wanted to bang somebody so bad in his life. Images mixed in his mind to things he never allowed to actually happen before. Cold shower, or no, he came hard and panting, slumping against the tiles. Visions of Cas fucking him from behind swirled away like smoke. The word ‘sir’ on his lips was never said aloud.

And never would be.

But Dean had a fantastic imagination. And it never hurt anyone. He could keep his shit together. He could do this right. He could...ask Cas out on a date? That’s what respectable people did. Date. Yeah. He could do that.

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying this fic so far!  
> I will be posting on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays until this is all up!
> 
> Please check the tags for this story. I added some new ones.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Thank you to all who kudo and comment! You guys are the best!


	6. A Rumble So Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a mighty storm brewing...

Chapter 6:  A Rumble So Fine  
   
   
   
Dean lifted the clay pot next to the front door of the old Victorian.  The key was there, right where Cas said it would be.  The plant was dead.  Long dead.  Like everything on the outside of this place.  It’s what gave it such an abandoned look.  
   
He turned the key in the lock, coming in and locking it behind him.  “Hello?” He yelled, not wanting a surprised or startled Cas coming at him with his scowl and ninja hands.  
   
“Cas?  It’s Dean!”  
   
It was Tuesday morning.  Cas was at work, like yesterday.  The house was empty.  And even though it was empty, it did not feel abandoned inside.  Boxes were slowly gathering around the bottom of the stairs, a blanket still laid on the floor in the living room where he and Cas had eaten dinner by the fire last night.  Sunday had gone much like Saturday.  Cas worked on painting and Dean was making huge progress with his book.  Yesterday, Cas had gone back to work, not having as much time for the house.  Dean had been distracted most of the day and Cas had been busy, but when he made him come down for dinner, Dean couldn’t help but feel like the gesture had been more than platonic.  In fact, if Cas hadn’t gotten up when he did, Dean was seriously considering leaning over to kiss him.  
   
It could’ve happened.  He was sure of it.  
   
What was holding him back was his own insecurity.  Sam had a good thing going.  There was no way he could be responsible for messing that up.  
   
As he stood in the entryway, sitting his satchel on the floor, he couldn’t help but feel like he was home.  That this all felt so damn right.  Maybe he could do this one right.  Maybe he and Cas could work.  
   
Maybe he was figuring shit out again.  
   
He stared at the blanket.  Maybe he could surprise Cas with dinner.  The guy had a toaster oven and a crockpot in the kitchen.  Surely he could come up with something.  Maybe...if dinner went well again...maybe he would ask him out.

On a date.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, pacing around the dining room. He stopped to stare at the graffiti. The riot of colors, initials, shapes, and half-assed pictures made him huff a laugh. Why the hell did he like this house so much? Why did he like Cas so much? 

He huffed again. Because Cas was fucking hot. And sweet. And smart. The better question was, why the hell would Cas want a mess like him. 

Easy answer was because Cas didn’t know how much of a mess he was. No one knew except Crowley. Not even Sam knew all the shitty baggage he was dragging around. Maybe that’s why he liked the graffiti. Because if Cas could see past that...maybe he could see past some other shit too.

If dinner went well, he was asking Cas out. That made him frown. Dating. He never really did that before. He’d have to ask Sam for some tips.

He left the satchel, heading to the grocery store down the road.  
   
He really needed a friggin’ car.  
   
   
*******************************************  
   
   
“Mr. Novak?”  
   
Castiel looked up from the essay he was grading.  “Hello, Kevin.”  
   
Kevin Tran, one of his AP superstars, came into the classroom.  The bell had rung seven minutes ago, dismissing everyone for the end of the day.  
   
“Can you pleeease call my mother and explain to her that I haven’t screwed up paying for the AP classes?  I told her the procedure changed, but she doesn’t believe me!”  
   
Castiel grinned.  Kevin had a severe case of helicopter-mothering.  She was a tiger-mama and required a lot of extra work.  “I will call her.”  
   
“Today?  Sorry, she’s hounding me.”  Kevin’s shoulders slumped in undoubtedly what was parental pressure.  
   
Castiel sat back, giving the boy an easy grin.  “It’s not a problem, Kevin.  I’ll call her right now.”  
   
“You’re the man, Novak!”  
   
“That’s me,” Castiel chuckled, watching him go.  He sighed, knowing Mrs. Tran’s number by heart.    
   
After reassuring her and packing up his bag, he headed home.  Today, he went there with a grin.  He was distracted, but not by thoughts of replacing doorknobs, and paint colors.  He was thinking about last night.  He and Dean’s dinner by the empty fireplace and graffiti covered walls. How could something so mundane and borderline ridiculous have ended up so scintillating? And the vision of him in the doorway, so obviously not wanting to leave. So obviously wanting him! It had been a long, restless night.  He had been arguing with himself over Gabe asking him to not get involved with his boyfriend’s brother.    
   
But some things were beyond his control.  And this seemed to be one of them.  
   
He unlocked the door, stepping inside.  His grin widened.  It smelled good.  Not just like musty floorboards and paint.  It smelled like clam chowder.  
   
Drawn to the kitchen, he was surprised to find his crockpot full to the brim with delicious smelling soup.  He picked up the spoon lying next to it and tasted it.  
   
His eyes fluttered closed as he savored the creamy flavor.  He put the lid back on and headed upstairs.  He stopped on the threshold of the clock room.  Clocks of various sizes, and shades of blue and brown peeked from between the papers taped to the walls.  Lines of yarn had been added today, giving the project a truly homicide think-board look.  
   
Dean was seated at the table, crouched over his laptop with a marker sticking out of his mouth and a determined stare locked onto his screen as his fingers flew across the keyboard.  
   
But what made Castiel’s breath catch in his throat was a wiry pair of glasses Dean was wearing.  
   
Oh damn.  
   
He stepped in, the floorboard creaking under his foot and he froze.  The noise was enough to alert Dean though.  He looked up at him, blinking rapidly and pulling his glasses off with a nervous lick to his lips.  “Hey!”  
   
“Hello, Dean.”  Trench coat folded over one arm and tie loosened, Castiel could not stop the grin that came with his teasing comment.  “Glasses AND a satchel?”  
   
Dean groaned, sitting back, rubbing his face.  “Shut up.”  
   
Castiel chuckled, coming closer to look at some of the yarn lines.  
   
“Today was the first time I’ve walked into my house and thought it smelled good.”  He looked back at Dean.  “It tastes good too.”  
   
“Hey!  Quit sampling the goods before I say so!”  Dean stood up, stretching.  He rubbed his arms and flexed his fingers.  “Damn, it’s cold in here.”  
   
“Yes,” Castiel sighed.  “I’m pretty sure it’s the roof.  And we’re getting rain again tonight, so...”  
   
“Soup by the fireplace sounds pretty damn good then,” Dean grinned, slapping Castiel on the shoulder as he walked by.    
   
“Sounds perfect,” Castiel admitted.  
   
“How was school, Teach?” Dean asked, heading out to the hallway and up the short flight of steps that led into Cas’ bedroom.  
   
Castiel followed him, curious how comfortable Dean was with walking into his bedroom.    
   
“Did ya give anyone detention today?” Dean called as he went into the bathroom, only pushing the door half closed.  
   
Dean’s comfort made him grin.  He hung his coat on a hook.  “No.  Why?”  
   
He listened as the toilet flushed and water ran as he washed his hands.  
   
“How about demerits?  Is that still a thing?” He grinned, coming out of the bathroom, stopping.  
   
Castiel, mid removing his tie, frowned.  “Yes, demerits are still used.  But I did not give any.  Today.”  He pulled the tie off, watching Dean watching him.  A wave of heat flooded his body as he hung the tie on his closet doorknob.  His mouth tugged into a tiny grin as he opened the top two buttons.  “Are you a fan of demerits?”  
   
Dean huffed a strangled laugh.  “You’d think so, by my high school records.”  Their eyes met as Dean gave him a tentatively cocky grin.  
   
Damn.  He liked that grin too.  So suave and bad-boyish, tinged with something more innocent.  He unbuttoned his cuffs, not looking away.    
   
The silence between them crackled with electricity.  A loud rumble made them both look upward.  The ceiling erupted with noise.  Castiel looked out the window.  It had started raining.  More than raining, it was pouring.  
   
“Wow,” Dean chuckled, “that was...sudden.”  
   
They looked at each other again.  “I’ll, uh, get out of here and let you get changed.  Nice suit, by the way.”  
   
Castiel grinned as Dean left the room.  
   
“You hungry?” Dean called from the hallway.  
   
“Starving,” Cas called back.  “I worked through my lunch period.”  
   
“I’ll finish dinner.  Won’t take long.”  
   
Castiel grinned as he undid the rest of his buttons.  Dinner.  By the fireplace.  The storm rumbled loudly outside.  He changed into jeans and a long sleeve shirt, freshening up from the long day in dress clothes.  
   
As he rounded the hall to descend the stairs, lightning flashed so bright that the stained-glass window lit up like each piece had a light bulb behind it.  
   
Thunder crashed loudly outside, rumbling and rolling, long and dangerous.  Paused on the top step in awe, he heard the sound of water dripping heavily.  
   
“Oh no,” he muttered, turning back to follow the sound.  In the office, he found a puddle of water gathering on the floor near his desk, one of the few pieces of furniture he actually had moved into the house.    
   
His phone rang in his pocket.  Heading for towels in the only third floor bathroom, which was in his room, he answered it.  
   
“Hello, Gabe.”  
   
“Hey, Cassie.  Want me to come get you?”  
   
“No.  My roof is leaking in the office.  I’m going to have to take care of it now or it will cause even more damage.”  
   
“Uuuhhh.  That place is a sieve on jiggly legs!  The whole damn thing is just gonna fall over one of these days!”  
   
“Nonsense.  It has an excellent foundation.  And I knew there was a leak, I just wasn’t sure where it was.  Now I’ve found it.”  
   
“Ever the optimist.  You sure you don’t want to come to my place?  It’s nice and dry!  With food!”  
   
“No, I’m good.”  Another loud crack of thunder rattled the entire house.  “And I have food.”  
   
“What?” Gabe practically yelled.  
   
“I have food!” Castiel yelled back.  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”  
   
“Alright.  Sam’s staying with me tonight.  So, I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”  
   
Castiel huffed a laugh at the patchy communication, hanging up the phone.  He grabbed a stack of towels, covering his eyes as lightning flashed white and bright through the windows.  
   
Another boom of thunder rattled the windows.  He went back to the office, freezing in the hall at the lit silhouette of a man in front of the stained glass illuminated sharply at another flash of lightning.  
   
“Cas?” Dean called.  
   
“Dean!”  Castiel relaxed immediately, thankful to hear his voice.  “The roof is leaking!”  
   
Dean ran the rest of the steps, joining him in the office.  They moved the desk over and mopped water from the floor.  Dean pried open two mostly empty paint cans, catching the drip in two places as they wiped the floor dry.  
   
They worked quickly and easily with each other.  Lightning shredded the darkness in the room, a loud crack and boom following it.  
   
Everything went black and quiet.  
   
Castiel jumped slightly when Dean’s hand landed on his back.  
   
“Damn!” Dean exclaimed.  “The power went out.”  
   
Castiel stepped closer to him instinctually.  Dean rubbed his hand up and down Castiel’s back briefly before stepping away to the window.  
   
“The whole neighborhood is out,” he said quietly.  “Why is it wet over here?” Dean looked up, jumping to the side suddenly.  “Found another leak.”  
   
“Damnit,” Castiel swore.  “I’ll be back.  I have a bucket in the kitchen.”  He handed Dean a towel and went down to the kitchen in a hurry.  While there, he grabbed more rags and drop cloths, two large bowls, and the bucket, hauling it all back to the third floor.  
   
Dean was a mere shadow in the dark, crawling on his hands and knees.  Distracted, overloaded, and barely able to see, Cas tripped over something, sloshing water everywhere as he clattered to the floor in a whomping heap.    
   
Water seeped into his clothes, soaking his skin as something broke beneath him, biting into his hand.  With a grunt and a sharp gasp, he withdrew his hands, clambering up to his elbows.  
   
A flash of light lit the room to show blood on the floor and Dean crouching to steady him.  
   
“Cas!  Are you okay?”  
   
“Yes,” he grunted, letting Dean pull him to his feet.  
   
Dean pulled his phone out, turning the flashlight on.  He held it over Cas’ hands.    
   
“I spilled water,” Cas said distracted with the mess he had just made.    
   
He hissed as Dean put pressure on the side of his hand.  “Sorry,” Dean whispered.  “Let’s get to the bathroom so we can clean it.”  
   
Castiel pulled his hands back gently, hissing again as Dean’s pressure came off.  “But the floor!”  
   
“Hey,” Dean coaxed, steering him out of the room, “we get this sorted out, then we mop.”  
   
Sighing, Castiel let himself be steered into the bathroom where Dean handed him his phone.  “You hold that.”  
   
“It’s fine, Dean, I’m fine,” he insisted.  
   
Dean ignored him as he washed his hand, apologizing as the antibacterial wash stung.  Making little jokes and distracting him while he bandaged the small cut.  The urgency of his work was kind.  The steadiness of his task was reassuring.  But the tenderness of his touch paired with the concern in his eyes was what melted him completely.  
   
“Good ta go,” Dean grinned, wiping up the mess in the sink.    
   
“Thank you,” Castiel said, wishing he could say more, do more.  Lightning flashed and thunder boomed.  
   
“You’re welcome.”  Dean’s eyes lingered on him a moment, bobbing from his mouth to his eyes twice before he picked up his phone.  “Come on.”  
   
Castiel, heart beating wildly, followed him closely.  Lightning flashed so brightly they both winced from the light.  Castiel reached for Dean’s arm, taking it silently.  He couldn’t see him well, but he imagined Dean pleased as he pulled his arm (and Castiel’s hand) closer to his side.  
   
They spent a good fifteen minutes mopping the floor and resetting the cans and bowls to catch the rain.  Finished, they stood in the doorway, both of them soaking wet at their knees.    
   
“How about we make a fire in your room,” Dean suggested.  “I’ll bring dinner up.”  
   
Castiel sighed.  “That would be great.  There’s a dumbwaiter that, believe it or not, actually works.”  
   
“Perfect,” Dean grinned.  
   
Thunder crashed loudly again, and the sound of fire trucks could be heard in the distance.    
   
Castiel went to build a fire in the bedroom fireplace.  The fire fought off the damp chill in the air, but he moved his bed closer to it to give them somewhere warm to sit.  Seeing things were settled, he went to the office to open the dumbwaiter.  He grinned at the large bowls of soup.  
   
   
*************************************  
   
   
Dean trudged up the last of the steps with a tired groan.  His jeans were wet and still sticking to him.  The storm was beating against the house in sheets that made him not want to be too close to any windows.  It had gotten so cloudy that it looked like night time already.  With no power, the place was as dark as a cave, except when the lightning flashed so sudden and bright it blinded you for a minute.  
   
And yet, he was grinning.  
   
He stopped at the office.  The dumbwaiter was empty and the various containers collecting rain were still fairly low.  He left cleaning up the pile of broken pieces of a bowl for daylight.  He stopped in the clock room to unplug his laptop so a surge wouldn’t fry it.  So much for getting any more work done tonight.  He had already spilled clam chowder down the front of his shirt, banged his head on an open cabinet door, and the garlic bread he had made was cold.  
   
And yet, he was still grinning.  
   
“Comin’ in,” he warned, coming up the steps to Cas’ room.  Cas had drug his bed closer to the fire, which was crackling nicely.  
   
“Close the door, would you?” Cas asked.  “Maybe we can keep some heat in.”  
   
Dean kicked the door shut behind him, the bang of it nowhere near as loud as the crack of thunder that rattled the windows.  “Damn, this storm is terrible.”  
   
“Yes,” Cas agreed, sitting the two large bowls of soup near the bed.  He looked up at him, pausing in his work.  “Do I smell garlic?”  
   
“Yes, you do,” Dean said, wagging their bread, wrapped in paper towels.  
   
Lightning flashed, lighting the room starkly.  “Oh, now I’m jealous!”  
   
“Why?” Cas asked.  
   
“You changed.”  
   
Cas was wearing pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt.  
   
“Here.”  He felt something soft tap against his shin.  He put the bread and drinks down in front of the fire, taking the soft bundle Cas was tapping against him.    
   
“Awesome!”  He took the pajama pants and went to the bathroom to change.  
   
Dry and warm, he came to sit on the mattresses next to Cas.  
   
They both cringed at an earsplitting crack of thunder.  Cas sighed, handing him a bowl, spoon, and slice of garlic bread.  “The soup is still hot,” Cas added.  
   
“Oh, I know.  I’m wearing some.  Hot as fucking lava when you spill it on yourself.”  
   
Cas bit his lip, grinning.  
   
“Are you laughing at me?” Dean laughed, whacking his shoulder lightly, making Cas pull away briefly.  “Ass.”  
   
Castiel laughed harder, getting up.  
   
Dean took a bite of soup.  “Oh man.  That’s good.”  
   
“Here,” Cas chuckled dropping a shirt next to him.  
   
“Yes!”  Dean sat his bowl down and pulled his shirt off, pulling the clean one on.  He threw the shirt in the general direction of wherever, picking up his bowl again.  Cas had settled back onto the mattress next to him.  
   
They ate quietly, watching the fire and listening to the raging storm.  He texted Sam, making sure he was good, which he was.  
   
“This is delicious,” Cas said, savoring his last bite.  He sat the bowls down, slumping back against the blankets that were stacked up on the bed.  “I was supposed to paint tonight.”  
   
“Mm,” Dean mused.  “I should still be writing.  But...this is better.”  
   
Cas nodded his agreement.  
   
They sat watching the flames.  The count between lightning and thunder was lengthening, but the peels of thunder were still very loud.  
   
Cas added wood to the fire.  As he did, Dean noticed something white in his hair.  He chuckled as the man sat back.  
   
“What?” Cas asked, his voice cracking with the grin.  
   
Dean picked his phone up.  “I think you still have paint in your hair.”  
   
Cas sighed in disgust, running his fingers through it.  “I took a shower last night and tried to get it all out!”  
   
Dean laughed at how ruffled it made him.  The guy had been painting ceilings for days, then sanding last night.  “Turn around, I’ll look at it.”  
   
Cas turned and Dean turned his flashlight on.  “Here, you hold this.”  Dean handed him his phone, positioning his hand where he wanted it, fighting off a ridiculous grin just feeling Cas’ warm skin as he moved his hand into place.  
   
“Bossy,” Cas chuckled.  
   
“I can’t help it if you can’t even wash your own hair,” Dean smirked.  “Look at this!”  He began sliding little specks of white paint off the silky strands.  
   
“Is there a lot?” Cas asked.  
   
“No,” Dean’s chuckle slipped into something warmer.  He wished there was more.  Cas’ hair was so thick and silky.  He wanted to touch it.  He wanted to slide his hands through it.  He wanted to grip a handful of it, tip Cas’ head to the side and taste the skin on his neck.  Cas’ head tipped down, showing him more neck and the top of his spine.  Sure enough, he spotted a bit of paint on his skin.  “You even got some on you neck,” he laughed, gently peeling the paint away, wiping with his thumb to clear a few flecks.  Unable to stop himself, he threaded his fingers through Cas’ hair, watching for paint but loving the feel even more.  Cas was leaning into him now.  His hand holding the phone dropped down to the bed.  
   
“That feels so good,” Cas said gently.  
   
Dean grinned.  His hand on his neck went from feeling for paint to massaging him.  
   
“Oooohhhhh,” Cas groaned, tilting his head.  
   
Dean worked the muscles around his neck and shoulders, listening to all the little grunts and moans he made.  Cas was muscular and tight.  He could feel several knots and tightly corded muscles.  “You’re so tight.”  
   
Cas’ shoulders stilled beneath him and his head turned just slightly to look back at him.  
   
Dean thought about what he had just said.  “I meant you’re stiff.”  
   
Cas grinned in the firelight, making Dean’s stomach flip.  “Both are very true,” Cas chuckled.  
   
Dean’s hands froze as he stared down at Cas’ ornery grin in the firelight.  Was that a tease?  Was he flirting?  It just didn’t seem Cas’ style!  He said nothing, not wanting to read him wrong.  He reached down, rubbing a little more firmly.  
   
The smile on Cas’ face disappeared as he turned forward again, groaning.  “Ooh, Dean.”  
   
Fuck.  He rubbed harder, stroking longer sweeps, sliding over his shoulders.  Cas sighed, his muscles relaxing under his hands.    
   
Lightning flickered and thunder rolled as rain continued to pour down.  The wind howled and he could hear it whistle through the eaves of the roof.    
   
Dean’s heart was thudding in his chest again.  His excuse to touch Cas’ hair had led to more than he had expected, and it certainly did not stop him from wanting more.    
   
“Cas,” he said hoarsely, his hands stopping.  Since their initial altercation, he had not had any reason to touch Cas.  The man seemed quite willing to let him rub his shoulders and back...but it was suddenly a bit overwhelming.  The fire, the storm, the bed...did Cas actually mean to welcome him into his home this much?  Or had he overstepped some bounds he was not paying attention to?  
   
Cas turned, leaning into Dean’s shoulder.  His face was relaxed.  He didn’t seem like he wanted him to leave.    
   
Dean’s mouth parted in some surprise when Cas’ hand slid back, capturing one of his.  “Did that make you uncomfortable?”  
   
“What? No! No.  Not at all,” he assured him.  Cas grinned softly, turning to watch the fire.  Dean’s heart beat even harder.  Cas was sending him some blatantly clear signs.  And damn.  There was NOTHING to stop him!  Not one single reason in the world.    
   
Then Cas relaxed into him.  Dean rested his chin alongside his forehead as they both watched the fire and listened to the storm.    
   
As they sat there, Dean’s heart thumping madly, he got the distinct feeling Cas was waiting for him to make any further move.  He turned his head, his bottom lip making contact with Cas’ skin while his upper lip slid along his hair.  
   
The contact, as minimal as it was, was too much.  Dean pulled back and Cas shifted, looking at him calmly.  
   
“Cas,” Dean whispered, needing him to fill the gap.  Kiss him.  Make this more than just something in his head.  
   
Cas studied him a few seconds.  The fire gave his skin a warm glow, leaving his eyes dark.  “Dean,” Cas barely whispered.  
   
If he waited another second, he might die.  His chest might burst!  His heart might beat away!  He might run!  No!  No!  Cas wanted him to kiss him.  He wanted to taste him.  Touch him.  His arms were frozen.  He was going to blow it!  
   
Cas lifted his hand, hooking a finger into the neckline of Dean’s t-shirt and pulled him into him.  Their eyes closed as their lips met for the first time.  
   
Dean bent his head, meeting his lips, pulling Cas in closer to him.  
   
His mouth, which he’d thought about so many times, was everything he knew it would be.  Soft, strong, and sure.  It was sweet and heady and just like touching his hair, he had to have more. He opened his mouth, feeling Cas move closer to him.  He took a deep breath, leaning in to Cas even more, kissing him a bit harder.    
   
Cas parted his lips, sliding his fingers into Dean’s hair, his thumb stroking along Dean’s cheek.  Dean ventured in gently, tasting him like the precious rarity he was.  As their tongues met, Cas’ hands began to move more, one wrapping around the back of his neck and the other clawing softly on his back.  His chest was rising and falling deeply.  
   
Dean pulled back, lips swollen.  They stared at each other for a long moment.    
   
Dean grinned.    
   
Cas matched it.    
   
It was all the acceptance Dean needed.  He bent again, kissing him harder, laying him back on the mattress, both men groaning.  Cas moved beneath him, snaking one leg out to wrap around Dean’s.  Their pajama pants left little to the imagination as Dean felt Cas’ hard length press against his own, making him groan and rock his hips, one slow drive down against him.  
   
Cas’ mouth paused against his until he gasped, eyes opening.  His hands were in Dean’s hair, sliding down his back and gripping him gently.  
   
Dean dove back to his mouth again, both hands gripping into Cas’ hair as he rocked down again.  He felt one of Cas’ legs lift and wrap around his waist.  He wanted this.  Just as much as Dean did.  He ground side to side this time, making Cas gasp again.  As his chin tipped up, Dean bit it softly, grinding again as his tongue flicked out to feel and taste him.  His skin was smooth, and he tasted incredibly good.  He kissed his way down Cas’ jaw and neck, gasping when the man’s hips ground up into his.  He went back to his neck, nibbling and sliding his tongue with enough pressure to elicit the moan and rock of hips he was after.  He relaxed his grip in Cas’ hair, pushing up onto his elbows, sliding down.  He pushed Cas’ t-shirt up, grinning hard when Cas raised his shoulders, pulling the t-shirt off.  
   
He got to his knees, shifting Cas’ hips fully onto the mattress under him.  He could see his pajama pants tented but waited to explore that.  They had not discussed boundaries.  Or anything, for that matter.  
   
Cas’ hands gripped his t-shirt, pulling the shirt partially over Dean’s head.  He chuckled, sitting up to pull it the rest of the way off, tossing it aside.  
   
He should say something.  
   
Their eyes met.  Cas slid his own hand down his abdomen and onto Dean’s thigh, his thumb pressing hard enough to make Dean’s dick jump in pleasure.  
   
“Dean,” Cas whispered, his eyes jumping from his hand and Dean’s dick to his eyes.  
   
“Yeah?” Dean barely managed, gasping as Cas’ magic thumb pressed in again.  
   
“What do you want?” Cas asked, gripping Dean’s hips.  
   
Surprised by the question, he blushed, biting his lip.  
   
Cas grinned, curling a finger into the waistband of the pajama pants, running it back and forth in a short, teasing sweep.  Cas sat up a bit, perching on his elbows to take Dean’s mouth in a storm that rivaled the one outside.  Dean melted into him, grinding down again.  Cas pulled back, his lips wet in the firelight, and he turned, putting Dean on his back, moving him where he wanted him.  
   
Dean marveled at the strength Cas exhibited and the graceful moves that had him naked in no time.  
   
As Cas moved above him, he noticed two surgical scars, one under his ribs and the other on the opposite side of his abdomen.  It did nothing to detract from the wonder that was his body as it glowed warm in the firelight.  
   
“This okay?” Cas asked.  
   
“Yeah,” Dean nodded, too turned on to grin.  He slid his hands, toying with the waistband of Cas’ pants.    
   
“You want them off?” Cas grinned at him with a teasing little smirk.  
   
“Yes,” Dean huffed back, thrown off by the switch in power.  He had never been with someone who took charge like this.  
   
He liked it.  
   
Cas rolled off of him, slipping the pants off to reveal the rest of his body.  He was muscular and tall, with a dick that made his mouth water.  He knelt again, his hands skating across Dean’s chest, sliding down and sweeping back up, latching onto his nipples.  
   
Any shyness Dean had disappeared in the two tiny grips that bolted through him.  His whole body arched, and Cas chuckled in response.  “Cas,” he groaned.  
   
The man answered him, not in words, but in actions.  His right hand slid away, replaced instantly with his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking.  
   
Dean groaned, running both hands through his hair.  He moaned again when his teeth bit lightly, making Dean grind his own teeth.  His mouth was gone in a flash, replaced by his hand.  His mouth nibbled down his ribs, over his abdomen and over his hipbone with a groan.  
   
“You are gorgeous,” Cas whispered into his skin.  
   
Dean, powerless to do anything more than revel in the assault of pleasure on his body, moaned with a panted whine when a hot tongue flicked across the head of his dick.  “Oh fuck,” Dean muttered.  
   
“More?” Cas asked with a chuckle.  
   
“God, yes!” Dean said over the rumble of the storm.  
   
Dean’s entire body bucked in shock as Cas’ mouth engulfed him completely.  Cas braced Dean’s hips, controlling what he could have, swirling and sucking.  For several glorious minutes, he drowned in the tight heat of Cas’ mouth and throat.  With one last lick from his balls to the tip of his cock-head, Cas crawled back up Dean’s body.  
   
“Do you know what you want yet?” Cas asked with a grin.  
   
“More,” Dean panted.  “Of that.  Of everything.”  He leaned up, kissing Cas hot and dirty.  “Cas,”  
   
“What?” Cas coaxed, gripping both their cocks together to stroke them.  “You want me to jack you off?  Blowjob?  More?”  His mouth latched onto Dean’s neck.  Each idea sounded dirty and fantastic and yes...all.  He wanted everything.  And no matter what, Cas was taking care of him.    
   
His head spun with want as his body flooded with chills at every touch against it.  “More,” he managed.  
   
Cas pulled up, looking down at him.  “More.”  A look of honor passed over Cas’ face.  He pulled Dean’s hand to his mouth, kissing it gently.  A decision shifted in Dean’s mind with a thrill.  “I’ve never bottomed, but...”  
   
“You want to?” Cas asked with a grin.  
   
“Yeah,” Dean admitted shyly.    
   
Cas bit his lip, reaching for a box nearby.  As he rummaged through it, Dean took advantage of it, moving to lean up and start a trail of wet kisses across his pecs.  Precome smeared across his skin from Cas’ cock and he wiggled a hand between them to take his length in hand, stroking the silky skin.  
   
Cas, distracted and flushed, pulled himself back into place, kissing Dean with a bite to his bottom lip.  “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Dean.”  
   
“I’m clean,” Dean clarified, reality flitting through his mind suddenly. “Cas...”

Cas nodded, kissing his skin.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a while. I know I’m clean,” Dean repeated, thoughts drifting dreamily through him as Cas’ hands stroked along his sides.

“I’m clean too,” Cas mumbled along his hipbone, nibbling on it.

A little thrill of shock made him laugh as he dropped back, boneless and wanting onto the bed.  Cas was between his legs and Dean was letting this happen.  Letting him in.  Letting him do something no one else had ever done.  
   
Nervousness fluttered through his stomach as he heard the lube open.  He licked his lips, spreading his legs a bit wider as Cas guided him apart.  
   
“If you don’t like it, tell me to stop,” Cas said low, licking a swirl around his balls.  
   
Dean nodded, taking a deep breath to relax himself.  
   
“I promise you’ll like it,” Cas grinned up at him, making Dean huff a laugh again.  
   
Dean frowned as lubed fingers stroked up and down his crack, sweeping past his hole.  He braced for something uncomfortable and sucked in a gasp when what he got was Cas’ mouth surrounding the head of his penis while his hand moved steadily back and forth across his hole.

“You want me to use a condom?” Cas asked.

“No,” Dean managed, his fingers digging into Cas’ hair gently. “Just you.”  
   
He relaxed again, loving the way Castiel’s tongue could wrap and swirl and tease the slit at the end.  Need built up inside him and he shifted his hips, seeking more.  Cas pulled back, teasing him with a flickering tongue.  
   
Dean groaned, pressing against his hand, seeking attention to his hole that had yet to be breached.  He froze as one finger slid in and pulled out.  Cas’ mouth took his head more fully and Dean relaxed again.  
   
This felt better than any toy he had ever used on himself.  
   
Dean whined with need, opening himself for more.  Cas slid back in and moved slowly, licking up and down the shaft of Dean’s cock with a loud groan.  He added more lube and Dean relaxed again as the slide of his finger moved in and out until his knuckles pressed into his perineum and wiggled back and forth.  
   
Dean groaned with need, wanting more.  “Fuck, that feels good.  Really good.”  
   
Cas’ mouth came over his head, sliding down his cock, rubbing it into his cheek and moaning, pressing his finger in more firmly and wiggling at the end again with his knuckles.  
   
Dean arched his back, grinding into his hand.  Fuck, why had he not done this before?  But he was pretty sure no one did it this good.  No one relished his dick with such attention before.  Cas pulled off of his dick, sucking his balls into his mouth gently.  The slide in and out continued, building more pressure and want.  
   
“So good, so good,” he panted.  
   
He felt Cas begin to spread his fingers and plunge them in harder.  When had the second finger even gone in?  Fuck!  It all felt so fucking good, swirling him into pleasure and need.  
   
“Uuuuhhh,” Dean cried out as Cas began licking at his hole, working his tongue in along with his fingers.  He wanted it all!  His fingers, his tongue!  He wanted more!  He wanted his whole hand!  His whole mouth!  “CAS!”  
   
His world deflated, leaving his heart thumping.  His eyes popped open and his legs wilted.  “Cas...”  
   
“I’m coming,” he whispered, looming over Dean’s face, kissing him, moving him, pressing his dick into his hole and filling him.  His needy thoughts centered all on the huge 2x4 Cas was pressing inside of him.  
   
He huffed, frowning at the stretch and burn until Cas backed out halfway.  He wanted it all.  He just needed a second.  His eyes opened to find Cas watching him with a grin.  “You taste so good.”  
   
Dean’s breathing relaxed.  
   
“You’re perfect.  The way you move, the way you smile,” Cas went on, biting gently at his neck, sucking the skin between his tongue and teeth.  
   
Dean felt like he was glowing, electrified with a need so basic it required no words.  He shifted his hips, spreading his knees.  Cas slid in further and backed out just as smoothly.  The pressure was immense, and he gasped, clawing at Cas’ back to pull him harder against him.  Cas shifted his weight onto one hand and dragged his nails down Dean’s chest to tweak the nipple he could reach.  
   
“Fuck,” Dean groaned, needing more.  
   
Cas pumped in and out slowly, changing his angle several times to drive Dean insane.  He pressed in fully, stopping to kiss Dean deep.  
   
Dean felt open like never before.  His hands stretched down the smooth skin of Cas’ back, gripping his ass.  They were having sex!  Holy shit!  He was bottoming!  He’d thought about it so many times but never trusted anyone to do it.  Why did he trust Cas?  He barely knew him!  But it felt sooo fucking good.    
   
Growling, Cas began to move again, rocking into him in a heavy, driving rhythm.  
   
Ecstasy spiraled through Dean ebbing and flowing until it began climbing steadily.  His legs wrapped around Cas’ waist of their own accord and Cas adjusted again, hitting something that felt so good Dean’s eyes opened in shock.  
   
“There!”  
   
Cas braced himself, fucking into Dean harder and faster.  All Dean could do was hold on, mouth hanging open in plea for more, more, more!  There, there, there!  
   
“I’m gonna come,” Cas panted, sweat tinging his brow.  
   
The words made Dean groan and jump into action.  He reached between them, barely gripping his own cock, stroking once and feeling Cas bulge inside him, pounding harder.  Cas threw his head back groaning and exploding hot inside him.  Another stroke and Dean answered his roar with one of his own, coming hard, gasping with each thrust, feeling his own muscles contract and grip around Cas’ pulsating cock.  Lightning flashed sheer white, followed by a lazy roll of thunder.  
   
Cas bowed his head, moaning one last time as his rock-hard body relaxed and pressed into him like a warm, heavy blanket.  He pulled out gently, pulling his knees up to take some of the weight off of Dean as he draped over him.  
   
Dean shifted his legs, expecting pain, but found only post orgasmic bliss as he wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders, breathing deep.  
   
Minutes passed as the storm rumbled and rain poured.  As Cas came back to himself, he shifted and rolled off Dean, pulling him against him so they both lay on their sides.  He found Dean’s mouth with his, kissing him slow and gentle.  “Dean...I should have said something sooner, I just wasn’t sure how you felt about this.”  
   
“Bout what?” Dean grinned.  “Guys?  I’ve always been into guys.”  
   
“No,” Cas chuckled.  “Me.”  
   
Dean cupped Cas’ head in his hand.  “You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.  The minute you didn’t want me arrested, I was pretty much done for.”  
   
Cas leaned in again, kissing him.  “Same.”  
   
Another minute passed until Cas got up onto his elbow.  “Stay here, I’ll get a warm washcloth.”  
   
Dean grinned, nestling back down into the pillow.  His body was tired.  He felt sore in a dull ache that didn’t even bother him, to his relief.  
   
Cas knelt beside him, washing him as much as Dean would let him.  He got up, adding wood to the fire.  When Cas got back from the bathroom, he came behind Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist, dropping a kiss on his shoulder.  “You’ll stay the night, won’t you?”  
   
Something in Dean relaxed again.  This was all so perfect.  He squeezed Cas’ forearm, sliding his hand to lace his fingers into Cas’.  “Yeah.  I can stay.”  
   
Cas’ mouth, which was resting on his shoulder moved into a smile on his skin.  “Finally.”  
   
Dean chuckled, turning to him.    
   
“I wanted you to stay every night since you set up office in the clock room.”  
   
A small part of Dean wanted to be nervous this was moving so fast.  But he just couldn’t give it any voice.  Not with Cas’ warm hands rubbing his cool skin and pulling him against him.  Cas shuffled around, spreading out two more blankets over top of them.  The fire crackled, lighting the room in a warm, flickering glow.  The lightning seemed to have moved on with only the occasional rumble of thunder remaining.  The rain was steady but no longer lashing at the windows.  
   
“How do you feel?” Cas asked quietly.  
   
“Good,”  Dean admitted, not quite meeting Cas’ eyes in the dim glow of the room.    
   
“Yeah?” Cas chuckled, kissing his cheek.  “Good.”  
   
Dean wanted to say more.  He needed to say more.  But the moment was too perfect.  Unlike Castiel’s house, which appeared a wreck from the outside, with good bones on the inside, Dean considered himself much better on the outside.  Rotten on the inside.  His demons were dark and deep and he could just have this moment with Cas, who only knew the good part of him.  The guy who smiled at him like he was special.  Like he was a treasure he found.  But Cas was the treasure.  He closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the fire and the rain and the feel of Cas’ body next to his.  Cas turned over, facing the fire.  He snuggled back against Dean’s chest.  
   
Dean sighed with contentment, running a finger down his arm, watching the slow progression in the firelight.  He leaned forward, kissing the back of Cas’ neck, grinning at the groan and goosebumps his mouth elicited.  
   
He slid his hand under the covers, feeling along his ribs until he felt a ridge in his skin.  It was the scar.  He brushed by it to let his hand drift to his abdomen.  
   
Cas’ hand laced fingers with his.    
   
He nestled his head into Cas’ back, listening to the rain and the crackle of the fire.  
   
“I was gonna be brave and ask you out on a date tonight,” Dean said, grinning against Cas’ skin.

Cas chuckled. “I would love to go on a date.”

Dean hugged him tighter, closing his eyes. “Yeah? Wherever you wanna go, Cas.” He fell asleep with images of dinner in restaurants, movies, and other things they could go do together. He wanted to give him anything. Everything.


	7. Brotherly Shove

Chapter 7:  Brotherly Shove  
   
   
Cas woke to his alarm going off.  He hit the snooze button and cuddled back into bed.  Back into Dean’s welcoming arms.  Never had he slept so soundly.  The thought of leaving this nest of heavenly warmth and smooth skin was more than he could bear.  
   
“I wish I could call off sick.”  
   
Dean chuckled deep and scratchy just behind his ear.  His arms pulled him in tighter and his mouth started moving, murmuring and kissing him on the shoulder and neck.  “Don’t go.  Just quit and stay home.”  
   
“I wish,” Cas moaned, stretching like a cat.  He let Dean pull him onto his back, kissing him on the mouth.  Cas reached up for him, luxuriating in a long morning kiss.  “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?”  
   
“No,” Dean growled.  
   
Cas, stretched, blew out a breath as Dean continued kissing his neck.  “I have to go to work,” he mumbled, so not giving a shit about work.  The world could just stop for a damn minute and let him have this.  
   
“Mmm,” Dean muttered against his skin, his hand finding Cas’ morning wood.  Cas’ body woke, coming alive as Dean shifted his own stiff dick against his, stroking the pair of them with a dirty chuckle.  
   
“You are making this more than difficult,” Cas grumbled, smiling.  
   
“I’m difficult in general,” Dean taunted, sliding his thumb along Cas’ inner thigh.  
   
Cas groaned into a growl, rolling to put Dean beneath him.  He flung the covers back, grabbing the lube again.  His mind was clumsy with sleep, but his body knew exactly what it wanted.  He shoved Dean’s legs apart, letting their cocks line up.  
   
Dean started to say something with a nervous laugh, but barely choked a gasp as Cas took them both in his lubed hand, stroking.  
   
“I’d fuck you again, right now,” Cas panted, stroking, watching Dean squirm beneath him, “if I had time”.  He shifted his thigh, pushing Dean’s thigh even higher, feeling his heel park solidly on his back to push, fucking into Cas’ hand.  “I want you again.  So bad.  I want to fill you up and - ”  
   
“Fuck!” Dean growled, face strained with an aggressive need.  
   
“Is that what you want?” Cas ground out, pumping vigorously.  
   
Dean’s eyes flew up to his, two green daggers of need.  “Yes!” He growled, head up, mouth open and panting, hands clenched hard in the sheets.  
   
“So fucking good,” Cas panted.  
   
Dean keened low, the growl growing as Dean’s dick thickened impossibly harder until he shattered beneath him, coming hard with a yell and his entire body rocking.  “Fuck!  Yes!  Cas!”  
   
Cas lost himself in the slide of Dean’s slippery dick and arching body, his name in Dean’s mouth, and the eyes that had seared a straight line to his soul.  Cas came in a haze, a fog of glory and a rush of heat.  His arm dropped to his side, exhausted.  His head dropped down to Dean’s chest.  He felt Dean rock side to side, his hands cradling his head clumsily.    
   
He perched there, over Dean, forehead to Dean’s chest, legs wrapped around Cas’ waist as they both huffed and caught their breath.  
   
“Shit,” Dean finally managed.  
   
“I’m sorry,” Cas muttered, reviewing the maddening scene in his sleepy state.  “Dean, I didn’t mean to be too much.”  
   
He raised his head, staring down at Dean, whose face was completely relaxed now.  Eyes closed.  His cheeks flushed pink and hair crazy.  “M good,” Dean murmured, grinning.  His arm lifted, running his hand through Cas’ hair.  “So good,” he chuckled, drunkenly.  “The shit you say!  Damn!”  
   
Cas, who had begun to worry over how he just behaved, relaxed.  He had not read Dean wrong.  Dean was happy.  Smiling.  Beautiful.  He chuckled low, kissing Dean’s jaw, chin, mouth, and neck until Dean was giggling like a school boy, pawing him away.  “I gotta go,” he chuckled, getting up to his elbows, then onto his hands.  
   
Dean pouted.  
   
He actually pouted!  
   
Cas stared down at him in wonder.  This was all so unexpected.  Dreamt of, maybe.  Actually happening?  How the hell had this happened so fast?  And so...”Wow.”  
   
Cas climbed away from Dean’s leg grip and grabbing hands.  “I gotta go,” Cas repeated, kissing him soundly.  
   
Cas tucked him back into the blankets, building him another fire.  He glanced at his watch and went to the shower just short of running.  He washed quickly, drying even faster.  As he pulled clothes on rapidly, he grinned down at Dean, cozy in his bed, naked and exhausted with a warm fire chasing the morning chill away.  He tugged his blazer on and knelt down, kissing Dean again.  He hoped when Dean got up that he was good with everything they had done.  He feathered his short hair with his thumb, watching it bend and spring back in waves.  Dean sighed with such contentment, that Cas grinned.  “Have a good day,” he whispered.  
   
He stood, glancing around the room.  It was littered with clothes, the evidence of their night together, all crowded around the mattress.  He liked it.  It felt good.  He just hoped Dean felt the same way.    
   
He left as quickly and quietly as he could.  Worry nagged him as he slipped into the school building and into his classroom only several minutes after the first period bell had rung.  He sat down at his desk in a whoosh, sitting his travel mug on the desk with a thud.    
   
“Good morning class.”  
   
A few chuckles met his ears as the rest stared at him, barely awake.  
   
He took a long, deep breath.  “Turn to page 56.”  
   
He took a long drink of coffee, waiting for all 32 students to find the right page.  For a blessed moment, he thought about Dean.  In his bed.  How he had looked so peaceful...  
   
Today was Wednesday.  They had met last Friday.  They hadn’t even known each other a week!  
   
“Mr. Novak?” Krissy snapped.  
   
His head jolted up and he put his coffee down.  “Good morning.  Right...um, page?”  
   
“Fifty-six,” Krissy giggled.  
   
“Right!”  He turned to the white board, writing out an equation.  “Homework out, I’ll be around to check it.”  
   
   
***************************************  
   
   
Sam followed his last student out of his class as they filed out into the mad rush of high school hallway traffic.  He very much enjoyed being tall when it came to navigating between classes.  
   
“Alex,” he nodded to a brunette that waved to him as she passed by in the opposite direction.  
   
He followed the stream of students down the stairs to the bottom floor, turning into Castiel’s classroom.  He stepped inside the door as more students filed in.  
   
Castiel was erasing his board, numbers disappearing quickly.  He turned, catching sight of Sam and nodded, Sam giving him a quick grin back.  
   
“Kaia, would you see that everyone gets a wipe board and marker.”  
   
Kaia nodded, putting her books on her desk while Castiel joined Sam at his doorway, watching the rest of his class trickle in.  
   
“Morning,” Sam grinned.  “You have a quick minute?”  
   
“Sure,” Cas nodded, looking slightly nervous as the pair stepped into the hall as the bell rang.  
   
“Claire!” Sam yelled, catching sight of her ambling down the hall texting.  Her head snapped up, knowing she was caught with a phone AND being late to class.  “Pick up the pace!”  
   
“Going!” She called back, at least tucking her phone away and half running to her class.  
   
Sam shook his head, turning back to Cas.  “Hey, I know Gabe and I have been super distracted lately, so, we were thinking that maybe you and Dean could come over for dinner Friday night.”  Sam shrugged.  “At least get to know each other on common ground when no one is breaking and entering.  Or bleeding.”  Sam grinned at his own joke.  
   
“Oh...yes...I could meet for dinner Friday night,” Cas nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “But I do know Dean pretty well now.”  A guilty tilt to his smile made Sam curious.  
   
“You do?”  
   
“Dean has been storyboarding in one of my spare rooms since Saturday.”  
   
Sam was shocked.  Dean hadn’t said a word.  “Oh!”  He frowned.  “Dean’s been hanging around at your house since Saturday?”  
   
Castiel’s eyebrows raised.  “He has.”  
   
Sam ran a hand back through his hair.  “And...he’s writing?”  
   
“Profusely.  Without stopping to eat most of the time,” Cas grinned.  And there was something very warm in that grin.  
   
A niggling of fear spiked in Sam’s gut.  “So...you two...talk and hang out?”  
   
Cas pressed his lips together with a tiny wrinkle of worry on his brow.  “We do.  A little.  He’s pretty absorbed with his writing.”  Cas pulled a hand from one pocket, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as he stepped back to his doorway, “I should get back to my class.  But Friday sounds great!  We’ll be there!  Or I will be, anyway.  I shouldn’t speak for Dean, but, yeah.  Okay!”  He waved, dipping back into his room.  
   
Sam stared at the doorway for a moment.  So...Dean was hanging out at Cas’ house every day?  He made his way back up to his classroom, which was empty for his planning period.  He pulled his phone out of his locked desk drawer.  
   
Sam:  I just invited you and Cas to dinner Friday night.  He says you two have been hanging out??    
   
He tapped a pen on his desk calendar, worry furrowing his brow.  What was Dean up to?  Was he just working there?  He thought back to some of the shared looks the night Dean and Cas met.  
   
It was that freaking house.  Dean always had a thing for it.  He wondered, and worried, what Gabe was going to have to say about this.  He refrained from texting him, wanting to deal with it when he and Gabe were face to face tonight.  Gabe was so against the two of them hooking up.  And if Dean was hanging out there every day...  It could just be the house.  But...it could be Cas.  
   
   
   
*******************************************  
   
   
Gabe finished for the day at the bakery/coffee shop he and Balthazar had dubbed Lion’s Cup, a nod to Lawrence High’s mascot, the Chesty Lion.  Gabe had tried several names for his shop incorporating ‘Chesty’, but Cas and Balthazar had adamantly disagreed with all of them.    
   
Losers.  
   
Lion’s Cup was a hit with the school kids.  He prided himself on fueling tomorrow’s minds.  Sugaring the sleepy.  And caffeinating the student body.  For those off the coffee grid, he offered a wider assortment of teas than any place he’d been to, and hot chocolate.  For the healthy crew, he offered fresh fruits, yogurt with granola cups, and a variety of waters.  To each their own.  
   
He grabbed an apple as he headed out the side door with a chipper spring in his step.  It was Fall.  And he was in love.  So much so, that he had been grinning nonstop.  He swore he had new muscles in his cheeks.  Instead of jumping into his car and heading home, he walked to his brother’s house with his hands tucked into his coat pockets and a cheery whistle on his lips.  If Cas wasn’t home yet, he would be soon.  
   
The trees were a riot of red, yellow, and orange all along Vine Street.  He turned into the sidewalk leading to Castiel’s house, shoving at the gate that didn’t budge, bouncing him aside a half step, per usual.  He traversed the uneven pavers of the narrow walk and climbed the steps, rapping on the door before shoving a key in the lock.  
   
At least it was locked.  
   
He pushed one of the heavy doors open, shaking off the crisp air as the heat of the house enveloped him.  Huh.  And it was actually warm in here now.  Well, there was a plus.  
   
“Cassie!” Gabe yelled.  
   
He heard a chair scrape back and footsteps from the kitchen.  He started to walk back down the hall toward the kitchen, but stopped short as Dean stepped into the other end of the hall.  
   
“Hey, Gabe.”  
   
“Dean?  What the hell?  You break in during the daylight now?”  He advanced forward, frowning at the smirk on Dean’s face as he stepped back into the kitchen.  
   
“No.  I’m working.  Cas is letting me use the clock room to write.”  
   
‘The clock room’.  That was what his quirky-ass brother referred to as one of the many bedrooms.  He had cutesy names for all of them.  And the way Dean said it suggested a level of familiarity that had Gabe’s hackles rising.  “Really.”  
   
Gabe entered the kitchen as Dean turned to sit back down at the little table.  Eating.  He was eating.  Like he belonged here.  
   
No.  No, no, no.  What the hell was all this?  Dean was acting like he owned the joint!    
   
Gabe put a lid on his initial annoyance, striving to not fly off the handle with assumptions and jump to being pissed that this trouble-making punk was pulling one over on his little brother.  He pulled his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the other chair.  He glanced around, noting a small pile of washed dishes in the drainer and the smell of something beefy in the air.  It was gloomy in the large room, three of the windows still boarded over.  He stepped over to the stove, looking into a large pot.  
   
“Are you...cooking?”  Gabe asked, his suspicions growing.  
   
“Uh, yeah.”  
   
“Okay,” Gabe closed his eyes, resetting his brain.  Surely Dean fucking Winchester was not getting THIS comfy with his brother.  “You cook?  Here?”  
   
Dean stared back at him, eating the last bite of his sandwich.  “I’ve been working here.  Least I can do is make a meal every now and then.”  
   
Gabe sat heavily into the wide windowsill.  He could feel cool air seeping through the inefficient window.  There were traces of Castiel’s work around the kitchen.  Scrubbed and dried buckets, paint brushes, paint rollers, folded drop cloths all stacked on two boards straddling two wooden horses.  His mug.  Another mug.  
   
He watched as Dean got up, throwing his paper plate in the trash.  He leaned against the counter with his refilled mug.  
   
“You seem to like this house,” Gabe commented slowly.  
   
Dean nodded.    
   
They both looked toward the doorway as the sound of the front door opened.  
   
“Hello, Dean!”  
   
“In here,” Dean called back, not moving from where he stood comfortably leaning against the counter.  
   
Gabe’s eyes narrowed as Cas walked into the kitchen, tugging his trench coat off, tossing it on the back of the chair Dean had been in.  His eyes were on Dean like a laser.  
   
Gabe’s lips parted to say something.  He completely lost his words as he watched his brother not break his stride in the least and walk straight to Dean, kissing him.  
   
His jaw dropped.  
   
Cas was practically devouring the man.  Dean, for his part, had flinched in surprise, his arms jolting to encircle Cas.  His hands had landed on his shoulders but slid down his arms within seconds.  
   
Gabe stared in shock.  
   
“Cas - ” Dean said, pulling back with a blush.  
   
“I thought about you all day,” Cas cut him off, plying him with another kiss.  
   
“Mmm,” Dean laughed, pulling back.  “Cas - ” he chuckled, trying again to interrupt Cas’ onslaught.  
   
“I was distracted in ALL my classes,” Cas continued, leaning down to scoop Dean’s legs out from under him, sitting him on the counter.  
   
“C-Cas!” Dean gasped.  
   
All Gabe could do was stare in shock, frozen on his perch.  
   
“I want this,” Cas said, gripping at Dean’s crotch, “right - ”  
   
“CAS!” Dean gasped, gripping Cas by the wrist to stop him.  “Your brother’s here!” He blurted.  
   
Cas straightened, his hands still splayed on Dean’s thighs.  
   
Cas glanced around.  “Whe - ” his words, along with everything else, froze as his eyes locked onto Gabe’s with shock.  He pulled his hands away from Dean, stepping away from the counter.  “Gabriel!”  
   
Gabe felt himself rise to his feet, unblinking.  
   
“What are you doing here?” Cas blurted.  
   
“Visiting my brother!” Gabe snapped back.  “What the hell?  I see you two know each other.  Like...real fucking well!”  
   
Cas deflated with a long-suffering sigh.  His shoulders dropped slightly, and he put his hands on his hips.  Dressed in his teacher gear (jeans - cuffed, button-down untucked, and a blazer), his head tipped to the side with his mouth firming into a line.  “We do.”  
   
“You two are FUCKING?” Gabe yelled.  
   
His mouth pressed together tighter as Dean slid off the counter to stand beside him.  “Not that it’s any of your business, Gabriel,” Cas said firmly.  
   
“My business?” Gabe shot back.  “Yes!  This is my business!  That’s Sam’s brother!  I told you this was NOT okay!  You can’t get involved with MY boyfriend’s brother!”  
   
The pair crossed their arms over their chests, staring at him as if HE were the wrong one!  
   
“No no!” Gabe shook his hand in a frustrated wave, stepping closer, “This is NOT happening.”  
   
“Gabe,” they both said.  
   
“Stop that!” He yelled.  “Ugh!” Gabe shoved both hands back through his hair, scrubbing like he could shake everything loose that was wrong with this picture.  His brother was fucking Sam’s brother!  They were going to fuck up all the good shit he and Sam had so carefully built.  Dean would fuck over his brother!  Or Cas would break Dean’s heart!  Either way, they were both disasters!  There was no way this would work!  They’d piss each other off!  Piss off him and/or Sam!  Everything was going to come crashing down!    
   
“I’m not, no!  This isn’t happening!  Cassie!  ANY other person on the planet!  Men or women!  That’s a LOT to choose from!  Just not THIS one!”  
   
“What the hell?” Dean scoffed, looking pissed.  
   
Cas stepped forward.  His little brother might tower over him.  He might be able to give him a good run for his money.  But Cassie wasn’t the only third-degree black belt in the room.  Gabe had been there with him for every class and test along the way.  He stood his ground, staring at his brother with more anger than he had ever had toward him before.  
   
“I’m happy!” Gabe yelled.  “Sam is the best thing that has ever happened to me.  Ever!  And you two are not fucking this up!”  
   
“The only one ‘fucking up’,” Cas air quoted, looking equally as pissed, “is you”.  
   
Gabe scoffed, shaking his head.  He wasn’t fighting his brother.  He wasn’t arguing with him about something that was as obvious as the nose on his face.  He headed for the door.  
   
“Gabe!” Cas yelled, following him.  
   
Gabe whipped around, Cas almost running into him.  “One thing!  I haven’t asked you for anything in a long time.  I asked for ONE thing.  Not Dean.  This thing with Sam is serious.  I am NOT letting you or Mr. Larceny, screw this up.”  
   
He flung the door open, storming out of the house.  Dammit!  He didn’t bring his car.  
   
He sighed forcefully.  Now he had to storm the whole way back to the fucking bakery.  
   
“Gabriel!” Cas chased after him.  His only brief second of redemption was when the stubborn gate made Cas damn near pummel himself on it when it didn’t budge as he rushed through.  “Wait!  This is ridiculous!”  
   
Gabe marched forward, not so much as breaking his stride.    
   
Cas grabbed him by the sleeve.  “Gabriel!  This is not going to affect you or Sam!”  
   
Gabe stopped walking, turning to his brother with a down-graded temper.  He swallowed all his angry thoughts, letting his brother speak his piece.  It was his turn to cross his arms and stare angrily.  
   
“I promise, Gabe!  This will have no effect on you and Sam.  But you should know I did not intend for this to happen.  I didn’t stop it either.  But he’s...different.  He’s...”  
   
“He’s a player, Cassie.  He moves through relationships like I go through lollipops.”  He looked back at the house, seeing Dean standing half way out the front door, waiting.  “He’s infatuated with your house, Cassie.  Not you.  He’s using you for your house.”  
   
Castiel stared at him.  
   
A strong gust blew leaves across their feet and up the sidewalk.  
   
“You’re wrong,” Castiel swore bitterly.  
   
Gabe shook his head.  “Don’t let him in, Cas.  He’s using you for...inspiration or - ”  
   
“Enough,” Castiel said, stepping back and shutting down.  
   
Gabe looked away, hating that he was doing this to his brother.  But he wanted to protect him.  And this was more than mixed martial arts was going to cover.  He glanced back at him, gauging his response.  He looked hurt.  And angry.  
   
Better now than later.  
   
“Sam told me all about Dean’s career so far.  If you don’t believe me, ask him.  Or Sam.  For fuck’s sake, google him.  And if you just don’t want to hear it, then don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  
   
Cas stared at him coldly.  His hair blew in the changing gusts.  His cheeks were pinking in the chill.  Or from his anger.    
   
He shivered when his brother turned and walked away from him.  He was torn, wanting to fix it.  But he knew Cas was no longer hearing what he was saying.  He shook his head again, watching him navigate the gate gracefully and return to Dean.  
   
Dean.  
   
Of all the people in all the world.  
   
He shoved his hands in his pockets, refusing to go back for his coat.  
   
   
   
********************************************  
   
   
   
Dean stepped back, letting Cas inside.  He watched in stilted emotions as Cas went back to the kitchen without a word.  He stared at the empty hallway, wondering what the hell he should do.  And what the hell Gabe had said.  Eventually, he went into the kitchen.  Cas was stirring the large pot of vegetable soup with beef.  
   
“This smells delicious.”  
   
Dean licked his lips, coming nearer to Cas.  “What did Gabe say?”  
   
Cas tapped the ladle on the rim of the pot several times, then lay it on the spoon rest.  He sighed, resting heavily onto his palms that he planted on either side of the stove.  “He’s upset because he thinks we are going to ruin things between him and Sam.”  
   
Dean nodded slowly, though Cas couldn’t see him.  He was still staring down into the stove.  Gabe was protecting his brother.  And maybe he was right to.  Dean took a step back, eyes dropping to the floor.  He was cursed.  And he would undoubtedly fuck things up with someone as amazing as Cas.  He took another step back.  Sam was so happy.  And all through the years...since he had left for college, Dean had done little to help him.  In fact, he had mostly been a burden. He took another step back.  Sam had asked for exactly one thing in all that time.  Don’t get involved with Cas.  
   
He should leave.  He should pack up his shit and go.  Sam had been doing great without him.  Maybe things should stay that way.  
   
He was back in the clock room before he even realized he was moving.  His laptop was in his satchel, charging cord coiled around his hand.  
   
“What are you doing?” Castiel’s voice snapped through his attention as effectively as the crack of a whip.  

“Um...”  
   
Cas crossed the room in three long strides, taking the cord from his hand.  “Are you leaving?”  
   
His eyes were startlingly blue.  Tiny lines creased the corners of his eyes and his hair was a shock of brown that beckoned to be touched.  He wondered how many people had just randomly touched his hair throughout his life without his permission.    
   
“Dean.”  
   
“Cas,” he snapped back, finding his tongue, “I gotta go”.  
   
Cas sighed, his mouth forming that flat line that only made him want to ply it open with a powerful kiss.  “It did not appear that you were leaving.  You made dinner.”  
   
“Yeah.  Well.  I should go.”  He reached for the cord, meaning to take it.  
   
Cas pulled it out of reach.  “My brother is not ruining this for us.  We deserve to be as happy as they are.”  
   
“Yeah, well, I don’t really do happy endings.”  
   
Cas’ face softened.  “Your books would say otherwise.”  
   
Dean scoffed.  “Those are books.  Stupid stories.  I’m not like them.  My life is...I’m not the good guy, Cas.  I’m the fuck-up.  The side character that dies first because he’s too busy banging the blonde bimbo to see what’s coming!”  
   
Cas frowned hard at that.  “You - ”  
   
“I don’t know what Gabe said,” he cut him off, stepping back, shouldering the satchel, “but chances are, he was right.  And you...”. Dean shook his head, taking in Cas’ tall frame, handsome face, and teacher attire, “You’re the good guy, Cas.  The main character.  The one who gets all the good shit they deserve in the end.  We...we don’t match.  We don’t...fit.”  
   
He turned from Cas, rushing out the door and down the stairs, the sunset stained-glass window went by in a blur as tears fogged his vision.  
   
“Dean!”  Cas yelled, coming after him.  “Don’t leave!  Don’t - ”  
   
Dean rushed the second set of steps two at a time and bolted out the door.  Cas was everything.  He deserved everything.  And he certainly wasn’t the man to fit into the perfect house with the perfect guy.  He was so damaged.  No house.  No future.  No kind of partner.  Just a long series of shit that would eventually catch up to him and drown not only him but anyone near him.  
   
   
 


	8. Breaking Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is cranky. Gabe’s short temper and Dean’s quick feet really stirs the pot.  
> So, why did Dean take off? We’re about to find out more about Dean’s infamous past.

Chapter 8:  Breaking Through  
   
   
Sam sat his backpack on the couch, shuffling through his mail.  He put the pile on the kitchen table and pulled the fridge open to get a bottle of Cranberry Grape juice.  He jumped when his front door banged open and then slammed shut.  He met Gabe in the living room.  He was angry with a hawk-like expression knitting his fine brows together.  
   
“Gabe!  What’s wrong?”  
   
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong!” He snapped, rubbing a hand firmly across his mouth as he paced back and forth across the living room.  
   
“Well...are you gonna tell me?” Sam asked, shocked at Gabe getting riled up about anything.  
   
Gabe took a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest, not meeting his eyes.  “I went to see Cas.”  
   
“Oh.”  Sam wondered if this had to do with Dean.  
   
“And guess who was camping out at his house?”  
   
Sam groaned.  “Dean.”  
   
Gabe met his eyes fully, shock lighting them into an amber fire.  “You knew?!”  
   
“I invited Cas to dinner Friday night, like we talked about.  He said Dean’s been at his house every day since Saturday.”  
   
Gabe nodded with a shrewd twist to his scowl.  “Figures.  Well, I was there when Cas came home.  Did he also mention they are fucking?”  
   
Sam flinched at the word.  “No,” he answered quietly.  “Did you say something?”  
   
“Oh yeah!” Gabe laughed bitterly.  His glimpse of amusement drained instantly though, and he began pacing again.  “I said a lot.  To Cas.”  
   
Sam immediately frowned in worry.  “Gabe...it might not be so bad if they hook up.  I’m not going to measure what Cas does against you.  And I would hope you wouldn’t hold Dean’s behavior in comparison to mine.  They’re - ”  
   
Gabe shook his head, his eyes darting all over the room.  “No.  I have finally met the one!  My forever person!  I’m not letting my brother, or your brother, fuck this up!”  
   
“Gabe,” Sam breathed, stepping forward to catch him.  “Slow down!”  
   
“Dean will use him and break Cas’ heart!” Gabe fretted, his hand sweeping through his hair wildly.  
   
Sam caught that hand too, making him look at him.  “They’re adults.  The best we can do is warn them.  It’s going to be okay.”  
   
Gabe blew a breath out, his chest unpuffing and he collapsed into Sam’s arms. “Shit. I mighta done that thing. That thing I do when I overreact. I just...need Cas to be safe. I feel like I’m moving on. And...I don’t want to leave him behind. But I want to be with you.”

“It is possible that you are both moving on, you know,” Sam pointed out.

Gabe sighed.  
   
“Forever person?” Sam grinned, kissing the top of his head.  
   
Gabe looked up at him.  “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” He whispered.  
   
Sam nodded with a grin, kissing him. “You did.  Gotta say I like the sound of that.”  
   
Gabe’s hands slid around his waist.  “You do?  I’m not freaking you out?”  
   
“No,” Sam grinned, kissing him again.  “And hey, if we work this well together, who’s to say those two won’t actually hit it off?”  
   
Gabe groaned dramatically.  “I suppose.”  He hugged Sam tight, his head nestling into his muscular chest.  “I really pissed Cas off.”  
   
They both looked to the door as it burst open again with a rapping knock.  Cas stepped in, flustered and coat billowing.  
   
Gabe pulled back from Sam.  “Cassie.  What are you doing?”  
   
“I came to see Dean.  Or did you chase him out of here as well.”  
   
Gabe looked away guiltily.  
   
Sam cleared his throat.  “He’s not here.  I thought he was with you.”  
   
“He was.”  Cas came further in, looking worried.  “He left.”  
   
“Already?” Gabe asked.  
   
Cas glared, followed by Sam.  
   
“What exactly did you say to him?” Sam asked Gabe, worry spiking hard in his own chest.  
   
Gabe gaped at the pair of them.  “I was pissed!  I don’t know!  I-I said...no.  They were not going to date!  Something like that.”  He shook his head in confusion, looking back at Cas.  
   
“You said he was using me for my house.  That I was nothing more than an inspiration to him.  That he would use me and leave me.”  Castiel’s words were sharp as sword blades.  
   
“I didn’t say that to Dean,” Gabe clarified, turning to Sam with raised brows.  “I said that to Cas, but Dean wasn’t there.”  
   
Something inside Sam’s chest shriveled.  If Dean heard any of that...  His eyes snapped to Cas with a growing fear.  “How long ago did he leave?  Did he say anything?”  
   
Cas deflated, his eyes watering slightly.  “He looked so...afraid.  Like he hated himself.  He said he had to go.  That he was a bad guy.  A side character.  It was pretty...” he scratched his head, frowning, “self-deprecating.  I tried to stop him.  But short of physically restraining him, which seemed a bad idea at the time, I couldn’t stop him.  I assumed he would come straight here.”  
   
Without another word, Sam went up the stairs to check for him.  Empty.  He called his cell.  No answer.  He came downstairs slowly.  “His things are here.  But he isn’t.”  
   
The words sounded so loud in his own ears.  The deafening sound of Dean’s silence was echoing in his head with a bad feeling filling him.  
   
Cas paced in a circle, fidgeting with his coat sleeves.  Gabe stood still in shock.  “Sam...I didn’t mean to - ”  
   
Sam rounded on Gabe. “You protecting your brother doesn’t give you the right to kick mine to the curb. You don’t know Dean. You don’t know what he’s been through! And you don’t know how bad your words might have hurt him!”

Gabe shrank back a step. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen! Their shit messing with us!”

“DEAN is part of who I am, Gabe.”

Gabe seemed to get the gist. A look of understanding dawned on his face. “I...I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize...”

Sam held up a hand in frustration. “Just...stop.”

Castiel’s death-glare aimed at his brother was enough to clench the topic. He’d deal with Gabe and his misdirected worry later. 

“I’ll check the bars around town,” Sam redirected.  Gabe couldn’t possibly understand what he may have done.  While Dean fronted as a bad boy, a partier, a cocky, self-assured life of the party, Sam knew better.  His brother’s self-worth was paper thin.  “Cas, check the playground at the elementary school and the library.  He’s gone there before when he was younger.”  
   
“Where should I go?” Gabe asked.  
   
“Stay here,” Sam said tightly, not quite meeting his eye.  “Call us if he shows up.”  
   
Gabe ran a nervous hand through his hair.  “Yeah.  Okay.”  
   
Sam pulled his phone out, calling his brother again.  He headed down the porch steps with Cas on his heels.  
   
“He didn’t even take his coat,” Cas said worriedly.  
   
Sam said nothing in return, frowning as the call went to voicemail.  “Dammit Dean.”  
   
   
***************************************  
   
   
   
By 9:00 that night, it was evident that wherever Dean was, he did not want to be found.  
   
Castiel paced the hallways and stairs that night.  He kept returning to the clock room, hoping Dean had snuck in and would be sitting at the little table typing away.  
   
But the chair was empty, and the room was hollow.  Castiel walked along the walls, looking at Dean’s storyboarding.  His Meg character now had as much background as the main characters.  He ran a finger along Dean’s tight, neat handwriting.  His mind was a beautiful and frightening thing.  He could see it all over these walls and in the depths of his green eyes.  There was hurt, pain, anger, self-loathing.  He had seen glimpses as he studied Dean’s face.  But there was light, and humor, and mischief.  Love and need.  All his smiles.  They told him so much.  The array of information on the walls told him the entire wendigo story as well.  It told him character plots and other little stories along the way.  And while the main campers and the monster were by far the center of the story, prickly Meg was the heart.  
   
“Where are you, Dean?”  
   
He turned his head, looking out the window to the sidewalk below.  That had been where he had his first glimpse of Dean.  The stranger looking at his house.  Gabe was right.  Dean was interested in his house.  It had been what brought them together so quickly.  But Dean was interested in a lot more.  
   
His house did not earn those shy smiles, ornery smiles, or their night in front of the fire.  He rubbed at the bandaged cut on his hand.  
   
Wow.  
   
Dean was...everywhere.  
   
He went back to pacing the stairs, stopping to stare at the stained-glass window.  
   
He pulled his phone out, flipping the hall light on in a sudden moment of inspiration.  He took a picture of the window and sent it to Dean with the text, ‘I think you were right.  This is sunset.’  
   
He had sent Dean several texts already, telling him he was sorry for his ridiculous brother.  That he needed him to call.  Please let him know he was safe.  But this spoke to him on another level.  The house.  He went back to the clock room and sent him a picture of his charging cord, then Meg’s topsy-turvy profile with the text, ‘She’s perfect.’  
   
He sent him pictures of their bed by the fire, which Dean had made and cleaned up.  A picture of his vegetable soup.  All of them with little messages.  
   
Finally, he slumped into his bed with his phone.  He hoped Dean would see the pictures and understand what he meant by them.  As intertwined as the two had become so quickly, they had not actually said all that much.  
   
He hoped he still had time to say what Dean needed to hear.  
   
   
********************************************  
   
   
Sam threw his phone onto his bed angrily.  He had not heard a single fucking word from Dean last night or all day today.  He had the cops checking on his place in South Dakota and Benny had not heard anything.  Even Crowley wasn’t aware of his disappearance.  
   
Other than those three places...Dean could be absolutely anywhere.  
   
He had gone silent for months before.  But he was always there.  They would go for long stretches where the only time they talked was if he called him.  But Dean would ALWAYS pick up.  
   
He felt nervous and sick.  Angry and scared.  And everyone around him knew it.  His students had been yelled at more today than he could ever remember.  And he knew it by the looks on their faces as they hunkered down in their seats and got to work instead of having their heads up in discussions.  
   
He had completely shut Gabe down earlier today.  Whatever Gabe had said, it had tipped his brother into this action.  Tipped being the key word.  
   
Sam berated himself for not trying harder to find out what had been wrong with Dean since he had gotten home.  There were multiple red flags he had let slide.  And why?  Because he was distracted with himself.  And Dean was an adult.  If he wanted to talk about it, he knew how to fucking put words together and tell him what was happening.  
   
He sat heavily on the bed, pulling his shoes off.  He felt like searching the town again.  But this was Dean.  Lawrence was likely to be the last place he would stay.  
   
A phone rang.  It really threw him off, because he so rarely used the landline to the house that he actually glanced around for where to pick the phone up.  He picked the forgotten thing up on his extra bedside table.  
   
“Hello?”  
   
“Hey, Sam.”  
   
“Dean!”  Sam fought with the coiled cord for a moment to get his ear on the phone better.  “Where the hell are you?”  
   
“Sorry I just left.  Figured I better get out of there before I...”  
   
“Dean, we’ve been worried sick.”  The sound of Dean’s voice did not make him feel any better.  It was flat and rough, slow in tempo.  
   
“Sorry.  I’m...”  
   
“Dean,” Sam pleaded.  “Where are you?”  
   
Silence lingered on the line for a long moment.  Sam grasped at what to say.  
   
“I know something has been bothering you since you got here.  I know you, Dean.  I know you are depressed.  Whether it’s about Bobby or writing or a guy or life, I have no idea.  But I’ve been worried, Dean.  I just didn’t want to chase you away.  And then I’ve been distracted with my own shit and - ”  
   
“Sam,” Dean snapped, more life in his voice, “you do not blame yourself for any of this shit.  I’m the big brother.  And I’m the one showing up on YOUR doorstep.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  And if you woulda asked, I woulda told you to shut up.  So...there.  My shit is my shit.  And I’m fine.  I just wanted to apologize for leaving like I did.  I didn’t want you worrying.”  
   
Sam got up, pacing in a circle, fighting the cord the whole time.  “But your stuff is here.  Should I send it to you?”  At least that way he would know where he was.  
   
“Nah.  Just leave it.”  
   
Leave it?  A cold terror gripped Sam’s chest.  “Dean?  Are you okay?” His eyes began to tear up.  
   
“Sam!” Dean snapped.  “I’m fine!  I just don’t give a shit about my crap.  But I’m okay!  Quit freaking out.”  
   
Sam slumped onto the bed, his elbows landing on his knees.  “You’re not okay.  I’m not okay.  Dean...I don’t want things to be like this.  I’m tired of missing you.  Please, please come back.”  
   
There was a punch of silence before Dean stammered into speech.  “Wh-, it -, Sam, Sam.  Sam?”  
   
Sam sniffled, hating that he was a grown fucking man fucking crying in front of his fucking brother but fuck already.  He took a deep breath, wiping his cheeks off.  “I hardly got to talk to you while you were here.  Dean, I need to talk to you!  I thought you were moving back!  I thought I had more time!”  
   
“Whoa, whoa,” Dean soothed, “we got plenty of time.  Shit.”  He could hear Dean pacing, but he wasn’t letting Dean off this time.  Not this time.  
   
“I need you to come home.”  
   
“Sam.”  
   
Sam hung up the phone.  It was true.  And he couldn’t handle the argument that would go along with it.  The speech that would keep Dean away another ten years.  Out there wherever, doing whatever, and never feeling any better.  Dean needed to come home for himself.  Not for Sam.  But Sam had not lied a bit.  He needed him home.  
   
The phone rang again.  He hung his head, his hair falling around his eyes and chin.  He shook it back and answered the phone.  “Yeah.”  
   
“Sam, don’t fucking hang up on me.”  
   
“Where are you?” Sam demanded.  
   
Dean sighed.  “I’m in St. Louis.”  
   
Sam stood up again.  “You really are leaving.”  
   
“I was headed to Crowley’s in New York.  Figured I could stay with him until I finish this stupid wendigo book and get my shit together.”  
   
Sam shook his head, anger rising.  “Crowley?  You’d go to Crowley before me?  Really Dean?  Dean...so help me God, if you don’t come home right now, I’m going to find you and kick your ass.”    
   
“Sam!” Dean half laughed.  
   
“You think I’m kidding?  I will tear this country apart until I find you.  You can’t hide from me Dean.  Not anymore.  Come home, dammit.”  He hung up the phone again.  It clanged with a satisfying clamor onto its base.  There was something very satisfying about doing that rather than clicking ‘end’ on his cell phone.  He stared at the dusty phone with a new light of approval.  
   
Dean had to know he meant business.  
   
He texted Gabe.  
   
Sam- Heard from Dean.  I think he’s headed home.  
   
Gabe- I’m so glad!  Can I come over?  
   
Sam shook his head.    
   
Sam- Maybe tomorrow.  
   
Gabe- Okay.  Time out for Gabe.  I love you.  
   
Sam sighed with a twinge of guilt.  He texted Cas.  
   
Sam- Heard from Dean.  He’s okay.  I think he’s headed back home.  
   
He almost grinned when his cell phone rang.  “Hey, Cas.”  
   
“Dean’s okay?  Did he text or call you?  Where is he?”  
   
Sam’s eyebrows shot up.  It was so weird that his co-worker and Gabe’s brother was so worked up about his brother.  “He’s in St. Louis.  He was heading to his editor’s place, but I think I convinced him to turn around and head home.  To Lawrence.”  
   
Cas sighed in relief.  It warmed Sam immediately to see how this was affecting him.  “You REALLY have a thing for my brother, don’t you?”  
   
“Yes,” Castiel sighed without hesitating.  “Very much so.”  
   
“So, do you know why he came here?  To Lawrence?  What actually prompted this whole move?”  
   
Cas cleared his throat.  “I must admit...Dean and I don’t talk all that much.  Honestly, it’s been more physical than...”  
   
“Wow,” Sam laughed.  “Okay, um, well, there is something going on and I’m gonna need him to talk to me...which he sucks at, by the way.”  
   
“I see,” Cas answered.  “Whatever I can do to help.”  
   
“Thanks, Cas.”  
   
“And Sam,” silence stretched for a moment.    
   
Sam knew he was going to say something about Gabe.  He could hear it in the empty air.  
   
“Gabe meant well.”  
   
“Yeah,” Sam said shortly.  “Thanks, Cas.”  
   
They hung up and Sam decided to do more digging.  Something was up with Dean, and he was going to prove to his brother that he wasn’t the only one who could research for details.  
   
Before digging into his brother’s past, he texted Gabe.  
   
Sam - Love you too.  
   
   
   
************************************  
   
   
Dean slid the beer bottle in his hand around in a little circle, trailing through the condensation, drawing on the bar with it.  He was still in St. Louis because when he called Crowley to tell him he wasn’t coming, the guy had thrown an epic hissy fit and demanded Dean wait here for him.  
   
“Well, can’t say I mind the face time,” Crowley smirked with a little nod.  “Don’t tell the others, but you are my favorite.”  
   
Dean smirked a grin at him.  “Why the hell would I be your favorite?  You’ve had to bail me out, lock me up, save my ass.  Shit, it’s a damn wonder you haven’t canned me.”  His smile disappeared as he stared at Crowley a little harder.  
   
Their eyes met.  His sharp suit, always in place, was an outward sign of just how badass his editor was.  Crowley was ruthless.  He was a hardass and got work out of Dean that no one else possibly could.  But then, every now and then, there were moments of the man behind the suit.  And Dean counted himself as one of the lucky few that got to see that side of Crowley.  
   
“It is a wonder, isn’t it,” Crowley grinned, much warmer than Dean had expected.  “It’s because you do great things, squirrel.  You write much more than you are given credit for.  Yes, you’re difficult to maintain.  Yes, you’re messy, Dean.”  His grin broadened as he took another sip of his scotch.  He shrugged, as if he just couldn’t explain why.  “I like difficult.”  
   
Dean snorted a laugh.  “Well, aren’t we a match made in heaven.”  
   
“Not likely,” Crowley chuckled.  “But a match nonetheless.  Dean, I meant it when I said you needed to go home.  And I meant do more than sleep in your old bed.  I meant actually talk to your people.”  
   
Dean sighed.  “I get that, Crowley.”  
   
“No, I don’t think you do, Squirrel.”  
   
Dean slumped back.  “I do.”  
   
“Really,” Crowley deadpanned.  “We’ll see when we get there, just how well you’ve been sharing.”  
   
“We?” Dean sat up.  “Whadya mean?”  
   
“I mean you and I.  God,” he sighed under his breath, “you really are slow.”  
   
Dean frowned.  “You’re coming home with me?”  
   
“I am.”  
   
“Crowley,” Dean clarified, “I do not need a babysitter.”  
   
“I disagree,” Crowley said cheerfully.  
   
Dean stared at him.  “I’ve been sending you chapters.  I got a lot of work done lately.”  
   
“Yes,” Crowley nodded.  “Whatever is sweetening your bitter tongue is exactly what you needed.”  
   
“So...why are you coming home with me?”  
   
Crowley finished his scotch with a drawl of his lips.  “You said you were coming to stay with me.”  Their eyes met.  “You don’t just call me and show up without there being something significantly wrong.”  
   
Dean’s eyes dropped to the bar.  
   
“Then you call, ten states closer and tell me you’re going back.”  He waved to the bartender for another scotch.  “Aaaand, I believe I explained the ‘you are my favorite’ bit.”  
   
He grinned at Dean with a side-eyed smile. “Besides, when Samantha called looking for you, I said I didn’t know where you were or that anything was wrong, which was true. But I never called to clarify after you called.”  
   
Dean flushed all over.  “Fuck.  I do need a fucking babysitter.”  
   
Crowley grinned, slipping a peanut into his mouth.  “You’re worth every fucking penny.  You know why?”  
   
“No,” Dean said bitterly.  
   
Crowley speared him with another look.  “Because you’re brilliant.  And you’re a good egg, Winchester.  This whole writing business will be over one of these days and then you’ll be you.  Calmed down.  Cut back.  No deadlines or book signings.  You took over the book world like a fucking rock star.  But not just any rowdy flash in the pan who can make some noise.  No, you came in like Mick Jagger.  A brilliant, bloody fucking mess.  You’ve bombed.  You’ve crashed and burned.  But you’ve been brilliant as well.”  He took a long sniff of the new glass of scotch, swirled it and took a sip.  
   
“You’re so full of shit,” Dean laughed.  “Mick Jagger.”  He laughed harder, earning a grin from the blonde next to him.  “Hey,” he nodded.  “Mick Jagger.  Nice to meet ya.”  
   
The guy grinned and turned away.  
   
Dean sighed.  “Crowley...what the hell would I do without you?”  
   
“Flounder, my friend.  You’d fall and wallow in your own misery if I let you.  But that’s what I’m here for, squirrel.  To keep all my nuts in a line.”  
   
Dean nodded.  Crowley was adept at putting him in his place.  Or wherever he wanted him, for that matter.  
   
   
   
************************************************  
   
   
   
Gabe parked his sports car neatly along Vine Street, in front of Cassie’s house.  He turned the engine off and looked at the last text on his phone.  He glanced up, watching as Dean and another man pulled along the curb behind him.  
   
“Thank fuck,” he muttered.  Dean was back.  He had gone to some shady lengths to get Dean tracked, including cahootzing with Dean’s editor, Fergus Crowley.  He saw the moment Dean recognized his car and he jumped out, meeting the man along the sidewalk.  
   
“You’re back!”  Gabe, for all the words he had planned, lost his edge, hugging Dean tightly.  He felt Dean pat his back.  
   
“What the hell, Gabe?”  
   
Gabe backed up, brushing his hair back.  “I’m an asshole!  I said shit that, that didn’t need said and I ruined everything!  I’m so sorry, Dean.”  
   
Dean stared at him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.    
   
“I’m too much, sometimes.  Lots of times, actually,” he went on.  “I was just worried you were going to hurt my brother...so...I struck preemptively.”  
   
Dean shuffled his keys from one hand to the other.  “I get that.”  
   
“No, I was wrong.  Waaaay wrong.  Cassie won’t talk to me.  He said I’m protecting him to death.  And...he might be right.”  Gabe sighed, deflating.  “Meanwhile, ya haven’t done a damn thing wrong yet!”  He laughed short, feeling even more worried he would just continue to mess this up.  “Other than leaving.  That was...well...that sucked.”  
   
“Well, I shouldn’t have just left.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “About that.  I don’t know what you plan on doing here, or if you even have a plan...but Cas...”  
   
“Deserves better, I know.”  
   
“I didn’t say that!” Gabe shook his head, watching a man in a wool coat get out of the car with an air of distinguished cool.  Eyes back on Dean, he stumbled over his own tripping thoughts.  “I know you got some shit going on, or did, but...me and Sam - ”  
   
“I’m not going to mess things up with you and Sam,” Dean said quietly, eyes on his own hands.  
   
“Would you shut up and listen?” Gabe snapped, gaining the man’s full attention.  Damn.  That Winchester stare was unnerving as fuck.  “What I’m sayin’ is, Sam and I are here for...whatever it is you have going on.”  
   
Dean frowned.  “Thought he wasn’t talking to you.”  
   
Gabe shoved his hands in his coat pockets, leaning back with a grin.  “Me and Sam are like...a done deal.  So, we had a little time out.  It’s not the first time I’ve been put in time out and probably won’t be the last.  But...we’re good.  Promise.  I’m gonna make it up to him.”  He waggled his brows for added measure.  
   
Dean fought it, but he grinned anyway.  “Alright, I don’t need the details.”  
   
“So...”. Gabe hated to push for more, but he’d been Castiel’s big brother a long damn time.  “You gonna stick around here?  I mean...”  
   
Dean nodded, filling in the blanks.  “I’m gonna...try.”  
   
“He’s going to stay,” the man in the suit assured in a gritty British accent, taking a step next to him.  
   
“You must be F - ”  
   
“Crowley,” he cut in smoothly, shaking his hand with the slick move of a city man.  
   
“You two know each other?” Dean asked, stepping back.  
   
“Seems Gabriel Novak has quite the protective streak.  He tracked me down and kept tabs until we arrived.”  
   
“I was worried.”  Gabe admitted.  “I was...really worried, Dean.”  
   
“Sam’ll get over it, I’m sure.”    
   
Gabe shook his head.  “Dean, I was worried about you.  I do kinda like you, ya know.  And I’m the one that freaked you out and chased you outta town.”  
   
Dean shrugged.  “I shouldn’t have left.  That’s...kinda my thing.”  
   
“Yeah?  Well, not anymore.  You got too much invested here.  Sam, for one.  Cas too.  I don’t know what the hell happened in the few days you two cohabited, but it did a number on him.  Cassie’s...a complicated guy.  He...doesn’t - .”  
   
“Dean?”  
   
The pair looked up, seeing Cas coming up the sidewalk from work, coat billowing in the autumn gusts.  He stopped in front of them.  “You’re back.”  It wasn’t quite a question.  And it wasn’t too sure either.  
   
“So,” Gabe stepped back hurriedly, “Crowley, how ‘bout I buy you a coffee?”  
   
Crowley arched a brow, looking at Dean first.  Dean must have indicated something, but Gabe saw nothing take place.  Crowley pinned on a smile and stepped around the lot of them.  “Coffee it is.”  
   
He gave Cas a cursory glance.  “I’m just gonna...go for coffee.”  
   
Cas watched as the pair headed down the street toward his bakery.  He hoped the pair would actually speak to each other.    
   
   
   
****************************************  
   
   
   
“I see you’ve returned,” Cas said, a bit more clipped than he had intended.  
   
“Yeah,” Dean said quietly, looking at the ground.    
   
He’d been gone for three days.  Cas let the irritation fester.  Three days was too long to just ignore someone.  It was rude.  And he’d better have a damn good excuse if he intended on returning to his house.  
   
“Cas.”  
   
He stared at Dean, annoyed at his own resolve that he could feel wavering just at the sound of the man’s voice.  “Did you come for your things?”  Cas headed toward the porch.  He had hoped Dean would return, but now that he was here, he could allow his worry to abate and his anger to take front stage.  
   
On the porch, Cas unlocked the door, pushing it open.  Dean followed him inside.  
   
“I didn’t know what to say, Cas,” Dean began.  
   
“Oh, pretty much anything would have been better than nothing.”  
   
Dean licked his lips, shoving his hands in his pockets.  “You’re right.  I was just...confused.”    
   
Cas pulled his coat off, hanging it on the coat tree he had bought for the foyer.  “Your things are where you left them.”  He headed toward the kitchen, relieved Dean was following him and not disappearing upstairs.  
   
“Cas,” Dean snagged his sleeve, pulling him to a stop just inside the kitchen.  “I’m sorry.  I left because I was afraid Gabe was right.  That I would ruin things.”  
   
Cas wanted to take ahold of him. Wanted to kiss him and plead he’d never leave again.  But he just couldn’t.  Instead, he stared back.  Waiting for more.  A reason.  
   
Dean’s mouth moved several times before words came out.  “I ran.  I left for Crowley’s because I had no idea where else to go.  Or what the hell to do.  I can’t mess things up for Sam.  Cas, I have a real bad past.”  
   
“I’m aware,” Cas answered, tearing his eyes away from Dean’s handsome face.  “I read all about you on the internet.  Your ‘rockstar book tours’.  Your interviews.  You...”. Cas swallowed, “you aren’t what you seem.”

Gabe had said to look him up. He had. What he found on the internet was a brash, cocky man. Castiel had some questions that needed answered if they were moving any further in this relationship. And he really did want to sort things out.  
   
Dean glanced away with a look of hurt and regret and fear.  He actually looked toward the door, turning partially.  But he turned back.  “I’m not that guy.  Not anymore.  Honestly, I never really was.  Guess I ran out of steam somewhere a few years ago.  Since then...I pretty much just sucked at life.”  
   
“Jail,” Cas said, leaning against his counter.  
   
The regret was plainly evident this time.  “Yeah.”  
   
“Does Sam know?” Cas asked.  
   
“Of course Sam knows.  He knows what a lousy idiot I’ve been.  I just didn’t want you to know.  Or Gabe.”  He shrugged, looking miserable.  “And by the way, half the shit on the web isn’t true.  Or accurate anyway.”  
   
Cas had read about Dean’s book tours.  How he traveled on a bus with a crew.  Partied.  Was known for sexual exploits with men and women.  Photos of his mug shot for DUI’s.  The bus was known to travel with a ‘67 Chevy Impala, Dean’s ‘sex wagon’, but there was a lot of speculation on where it had disappeared to.  There were many speculations on his bankruptcy as well.  Paying off women for illegitimate children, drugs, scandals.  More disturbing than anything were the allegations that Dean had something to do with the death of one of his roadies.  
He was charged with involuntary manslaughter, but the charges were dropped.  The articles and social media he came across all pointed to versions of how the rich buy their way out of everything.  It was disappointing and certainly not what Cas needed in his life.  What he wanted was that guy infatuated with his house, writing, and the one he had undone in front of the fire.  How the two could be the same person just didn’t add up.  
   
Dean cleared his throat.  “I’ve never even slept with a woman.  The parties were true.  But once you spark a few, the rest seem to follow you like a plague.  It was fun at first.  But.  It got real old.  My publisher, not Crowley, he’s my editor, my publisher, Amara...she kept the whole thing moving.  All the tours and the bus and the parties.  The drugs and the scandals.  She said it was the most publicity an author had in a long time.”  He shook his head, staring at the floor.  “She said I’d be rich.  I was.  But it was all tainted.  Stained with her poisonous touch.  Crowley did what he could to control the damage...but Amara was like a cloud of darkness that swallowed me up.”  
   
“So, you don’t have children out there you aren’t paying for?” Cas asked.  
   
“No,” Dean answered quietly.  “Like I said, I’ve never even slept with a woman.”  Dean stared at him a moment, driving the point in until Castiel conceded, nodding that he understood.  “What I do have,” Dean went on, “is a trashed reputation, friends who are dead, and a brother that tolerated me because I kept him out of the fray.”  
   
Castiel frowned at that.  Friends who were dead?  “Are you talking about Bobby?”  
   
Dean nodded, knowing what article Cas had read for him to have guessed that.  Unless Sam had mentioned it.  The article was about when he was being held for questioning in Colorado for the death of his friend, Ash.  Bobby had shown up, knowing both of them well.  He took Dean out of there like a man on a mission.  The article speculated that Bobby was a love interest of Dean’s.  That they hid away on Bobby’s property from the public.  Well, they did hide away from the public.  And he loved Bobby very much.  But he sure as hell wasn’t banging the guy.  He loved him like a second father.  
   
“I loved Bobby like a dad.  He taught me a lot.  He taught me how to stand up for myself and how to get the hell out from under Amara.”  A pained look crossed Dean’s face as his voice caught.  “It’s too bad he never saw me actually do it.  After he died, I couldn’t take her controlling me anymore.  Life was too short.  It could just be over in the blink of an eye.”  Dean’s voice faded as he stared at the kitchen floor.  “I went to make him a cup of coffee.  When I walked back into his den...he was just...sitting there kinda funny.  His head...”. Dean blinked away tears, wiping a hand down over his mouth.  Castiel fought to not comfort him.  He waited.  There was a lot more than a kind old man in Dean’s past.  And he needed to know more.    
   
“I lost almost everything when I left the publishing company.  Sam doesn’t know I lost everything.  But Crowley came with me.  He kept me afloat for a whole year before I could truly get my shit together.”  
   
“He put you in rehab?” Cas asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  
   
Dean nodded.  “Yeah.  The articles made it sound like drugs...but it was mostly so I didn’t...hurt myself.”  
   
Castiel’s heart broke.  “Oh, Dean...I didn’t know.”  
   
Dean looked away, ashamed.  “No.  Because drugs and alcohol were more manageable to the public.  It’s not like I tried anything.  I just...drank until I was...gone.  Drowned in it.  Until the stress and memories and voices were all gone.  So, that’s what Crowley pushed for.  Alcoholic writer.  And...it was easier for me to deal with too.  It gave me some privacy to deal with my shit.  It was a dark time.  Awful circumstances.  Bobby.  Ash.”  
   
Castiel’s chin tipped up as he watched Dean carefully.  “What happened with Ash?”  
   
Dean shifted on his feet, staring toward the front door.  “Ash was my friend.  He went on tour with me to help keep the chaos down.  I came back from the previous tour so...wrecked, that he swore he was staying with me to protect me.  But Amara...she was so consuming.  I swear she could block out the friggin’ sun if she wanted to.”  
   
Dean stared off, his jaw clenched.  “Ash partied with the crew.  Turns out he wasn’t as immune to Amara as he thought he would be.  I wasn’t on the bus that night.  I was in a motel.”  
   
Castiel stepped away from the counter, hating the haunted look on Dean’s face.  
   
“When I got back to the bus...” Dean wiped a tear off his cheek.  “Ash was passed out on the couch.  Only...he wouldn’t wake up.  He just...he was dead.”  Dean looked up at him with only the look a man who had seen death could have.  “My friend.  We swore we’d take care of each other and...we didn’t.”  
   
Castiel swallowed hard.  “Dean...”  
   
“It was drugs,” Dean shrugged, looking away from him.  “And my prints were on him. I felt so damn guilty that the cops took the evidence, my state of mind, and ran with it.  Until Bobby walked in and talked some sense into everyone.”  
   
Dean sighed heavily, looking exhausted.  “Cas, I told you I was the bad guy.  Truth is, I’m not even a good bad guy.  I just can’t pull through in the end.  I’ve done some bad.  Enough that you’d be smart to stay away from me.  But I’m not good either.  I’m...”  
   
Cas stepped closer, needing to be nearer to him.  “Prickly?”  
   
Dean huffed a laugh.  “Yeah.  Definitely prickly.”  
   
Cas grinned, stepping even closer to him, finally seeing the two men, the reputation and the real Dean, become the same.  His hand landed lightly on Dean’s cheek, catching his full attention and the full gaze of stormy green eyes.  “I like the prickly ones,” he murmured, kissing him slow and sweet.  
   
He could feel Dean’s hesitation.  But he knew it was his own angst not wanting to allow himself to have this.  The moment he softened completely in his arms, Cas parted his lips, surging forward to take Dean apart until he crumbled.  
   
Panting, chests heaving, they stopped, resting their foreheads together.  “Cas, you don’t even know me.  This is...”  
   
“You barely know me either,” Cas insisted.  “But I know enough.”  
   
“Sorry I left,” Dean whispered, his eyes opening, searching Cas for feedback.  
   
Cas gripped his chin loosely.  “It’s okay.  But Dean...don’t do that again.”  
   
Dean shook his head no.  Castiel was beginning to see why Dean had been so pushed around in his life.  His bad boy image had more to do with his own self-doubts than the infamous party bus.  
   
Amara had swept him into a storm of bad decisions propagated by her wish to feed off his infamy.  And Dean had tumbled onto a path he had a hard time telling himself he didn’t deserve to be on.  “Stay here, with me,” he said, meaning it, even though it shocked himself.  “Stay here.  We can fix this.  I can help you.  I know I can...if you’ll let me.”  
   
Dean’s face clouded with things Cas could only guess at.  “You have a beautiful life here, Cas.”  
   
“Did you get my texts?” Cas interrupted him.  “Did you see how much, how quickly, you’ve become a part of this place?”  
   
Dean’s mouth parted with a look of confusion.  “I left my phone here.  With my coat.  And pretty much everything else.”  
   
Cas bit his lip.  It had been the one thing he thought could be the reason Dean had never answered him.  “Where is it?”  
   
Dean stepped out of his hands toward his coat, which hung exactly where he had left it, on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.  “Might be in my pocket.”  He rummaged through the coat, pulling it out to show him.  “Here it is.”  
   
Castiel’s shoulders relaxed.  Dean had not been cruelly watching his texts and ignoring him, as he had feared.  He had never gotten them.  
   
Dean moved over to the windowsill, plugging it in.  He looked back at Cas with an expression so lost that Cas wanted to scoop him off his feet and carry him to his bedroom.  
   
“I gotta call Sam and tell him I’m back in town.  I did call him the other day.  The only number I could remember was our old house phone.”  
   
Castiel nodded.  “He told me you called.  He said he hoped you would be home soon.”  
   
Dean relaxed a bit more.  “Gabe was just trying to protect you, ya know.  He was just being - ”  
   
“He was being ridiculous, and I told him as much,” Cas interrupted.  “Between his short temper and your quick feet, the entire thing blew up before anything even had a chance to go wrong.”  
   
Dean sighed, sitting at the table as his phone dinged with life again.  “I had that coming.”  
   
Cas berated himself for even letting that much slip.  He circled his arms around Dean’s shoulders, his chin perched atop his head, watching the notifications he had missed list and ding on his phone.  Dean went to his texts first, sliding the screen to where they had started.  As he slid through them, reading and seeing the pictures Cas had taken with all the little texts below them, Dean’s hand came up to cup his forearm.  He grinned at some, chuckled at a few, and as he went, his hand slid over to take Castiel’s hand and pull it to his mouth to kiss it.  
   
The texts had stopped two days ago.  He kissed the top of Dean’s head while savoring the feel of his lips against his palm.  
   
“You still feel that way?” Dean asked, his breath blowing into his skin in warm little puffs.  
   
“Like you’re already a part of every inch of this house?  Yes,” Cas answered back softly.  
   
Dean exited out of his texts, going to Sam’s.  He slid through several rebukes, starting a new text.    
   
Dean- sry for all this.  I’m at Cas’ house.  I will be there tonight.  Need some time to fix things here first.  
   
Cas straightened as Dean stood, leaving the phone on the table to charge more.  He still had Cas’ hand in his.  “I really missed you.”  
   
“I missed you too.  Dean...”. Castiel was worried about a lot of things.  Yet, he could not let go of what might be something amazing.  “I know I don’t know all the details of your past.  And you don’t know mine.  But...I don’t care what happened.  I care about what could happen.”  He took Dean’s hands in his.  “We have a lot to talk about.  But I want to try.  I really want to.  I...”. He pressed his mouth together, not really wanting to talk about it, but needing to.  “I know what it’s like to be powerless.  To be afraid.  And to need protection.  But...I also know what it’s like to take back the power.  To learn to protect yourself.  Dean...as badly as I just want to hold you, take care of you...I want to help you learn to protect yourself.”  
   
Dean nodded, frowning.  It was hard to hear that you were not strong.  Because the opposite of strong was weak.  But Castiel knew better.  There was more to not being strong than just being weak.  There was need and damage and manipulation.  Dean had been a victim of circumstances.  But he did not need to be a victim forever.  
   
“I appreciate that, Cas.  It’s...I know I need to take charge of my own shit.  I just...haven’t gotten the hang of doing that.”  
   
Castiel grinned.  “I had Gabe.”  
   
Dean sighed.  “I think I really pissed Sam off.”  
   
Cas nodded.  “You scared him.  I think you really got his hopes up when you said you were moving here.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “I am.  I am moving here.  I am taking charge of my life.  I want to be here.  I knew it as soon as I got into town.  I knew it when I walked these sidewalks again.”  He bit his lip, giving Cas a shy grin.  “I knew it the night we slept together.  I...I don’t want to lose that.”  
   
A relief rushed through Castiel hard.  He wanted to laugh with elation.  He cradled Dean’s face in his hands again, kissing him.  “Me too, Dean.  Me too.”  
   
Dean kissed him back until they were both short of breath, hearts racing, and back to being at ease in each other’s space.  
   
Castiel cleared his throat, grinning as he leaned against the doorway.  “I’m so glad you’re back.  I...uh...I have a surprise for you.”  
   
The tension that had been weighing Dean down since his return melted substantially.  “For me?”  
   
“Well, it wasn’t ‘for you’ initially...but now it is.”  Castiel grinned, taking Dean’s hand firmly in his.  He led him through the hall, up the steps, up the next set of steps, and into the bedroom.  
   
“Wow,” Dean grinned.    
   
Castiel was proud of his massive California King size bed made of cherry wood that gleamed with a fine polish.  The bedding was white and fluffy, indulgent and inviting.  
   
“It arrived two days ago.  I just made it this morning before I left for work.”  Castiel turned to him, his eyes trailing slowly down Dean’s body.  “I thought about you the whole time.”  
   
Dean grinned sly and with more self-confidence than he had seen in some time.  He started unbuttoning his flannel, stepping back toward the bed.  “Oh yeah?  What were you picturing?”  
   
Castiel’s entire body felt like it kick-started into life.  “You, wearing a lot less than that.”  His grin ticked up on one side, encouraging Dean to continue.  
   
Dean tugged the shirt off, yanking his t-shirt off next.  He kicked his boots off, lying back on the bed with his feet still dangling toward the floor.  “Oh wow.  That’s so fucking soft.”  He luxuriated a moment, squirming his shoulders and head, Cas staring at his torso as it flexed and relaxed into the thick, white bedding.  The bow of his knees was like a fucking welcome mat.  
   
Castiel shed his clothes quickly, his mouth watering to be on Dean’s skin.  His palms tingling to be touching him.  
   
Dean’s eyes found his as his chin tipped down a notch to look at him.  “Cas...I...”  
   
Castiel bent over him, pushing his way easily between Dean’s knees, yanking his ass forward to hit against his own crotch as his mouth crashed down onto Dean’s in a loud moan.  Dean greeted him with equal fervor and volume.  
   
“I’m going to take good care of you, Dean,” Cas murmured into his skin, biting his way down Dean’s neck as his fingers found the button to his jeans, popping it open and sliding his zipper down over the bulge of his hard dick.   He stepped away, pulling the jeans, boxers, and his socks off.  Dean was lying on the bed, staring straight up at the ceiling with an open mouth.  
   
Cas smirked.  He slid his hands up Dean’s thighs, licking a stripe up his cock.  “See something you like?”  
   
Dean chuckled low and dirty.  “Nice mirror.”  
   
Cas chuckled back.  The wide canopy of the bed housed a discreet mirror that could be shaded to look a smoky black or reflective as a mirror.  He had left it turned on to the mirror this morning.  “Initially, the bed wasn’t to have a top.  But then I met you and...well, it was an upgrade I called back for.  And in a few minutes, it’ll be worth every penny.”  
   
“It’s priceless already,” Dean breathed out, looking down at him with a grin.  “Damn.  You drive me crazy, Cas.”  
   
Cas stepped out of his legs, hooking an arm under his knees to slide him further onto the bed.  As he climbed up on his knees, he turned him lengthwise in the bed and quickly straddled him.  He leaned down, taking Dean’s hands that he had lifted, lacing their fingers and pressed them into the mattress above his head.  
   
“You make me want to do very naughty things, Dean Winchester.”  
   
“Yeah?” Dean grinned up at him coyly.  “So do ‘em.”  
   
“That’s a lot of permission,” Cas uttered, cataloging all the dirty scenarios in his mind.  
   
“I’m all yours.”  
   
Chuckling with a dark note, Cas kissed him deep and filthy, loving how Dean bowed and struggled beneath him.  He nipped and tugged at Dean’s earlobes, the smooth skin of his neck, working his way down to his pert nipples, rolling them with his tongue and sucking them into his mouth with all the attention he would soon give his dick.  
   
He swooned at how supple Dean could undulate and how beautifully he moaned.  
   
“Cas...open me up for you.  I want you inside me.  I want that fat cock of yours to fill me full.”  
   
“Oh, keep talking like that,” Cas chuckled again.  “I’ll give you everything you want and more.”  He slid his mouth down Dean’s hard shaft quickly, licking back up.  “When you earn it.”  He crawled off Dean, eyes lighting as Dean followed his body, moving to crawl on top of him.    
   
“I’ll earn it,” Dean gulped, kissing Cas like a man on fire.  Cas craned his head back into the pillows as Dean ran his teeth down his neck.  It wasn’t until he was running his hands and tongue down his chest that he even remembered to hide his scars.  He slid a hand over the one by his ribs, but was quickly pushed away, lips sweeping across the scar, eliciting a tingle over the raised skin that felt different than the rest of his skin.  For once, it wasn’t bad.  It was just different.  His hands cupped Dean’s head lightly, reveling in his short, silky hair as he moved down his abdomen and engulfed his cock whole.  
   
   
He gasped, fighting to not grip his hair and fuck into his mouth.  He moaned and writhed as Dean sucked him down, his head bobbing, his shoulders flexing with each dip.  
   
“Bring me that ass,” Cas ordered.  Dean paused, mouth full of cock as his eyes lifted to his.  Cas crooked four fingers after pointing toward his ass.  He grinned as Dean grinned around his cock like an alligator grinning around its prey.  Dean walked his knees around, angling alongside him, licking his cock all the while.  
   
Cas ran his hand up Dean’s thigh and over the mound of one cheek with an appreciative moan.  He pulled his hand away as Dean began sucking at his new angle, teeth grazing ever so slightly.  Cas put two fingers in his mouth, wetting them with matching tongue strokes as Dean’s strokes.  He slid the wet fingers along Dean’s crack, pressing one into the tight, pink, furled hole he meant to abuse.  He slid in and out.  With his thumb, he tickled the swinging balls he had such a good view of.  
   
He grinned at the growl his finger elicited from Dean.  He pulled out, gripping one cheek.  “Are you growling at me?”  
   
“Mmhm,” Dean moaned, sliding down until his head bumped the back of his throat.  
   
Cas rubbed his cheek, wishing he could slap it.  He’d wait until they were more familiar with each other’s habits for that though.  He stretched to reach his new nightstand, pulling the lube out as Dean jostled around to keep sucking him.  
   
“You want some lube, don’t you?” Cas murmured.  
   
Dean pulled off with a slurp.  “Lots.  I want you hard.”  
   
Cas grinned as they both settled back to what they were doing, rubbing Dean’s ass cheek and gripping it.  He poured lube on his fingers, massaging it between them to warm it.  Again, he ran two fingers down and back up Dean’s crack, shoving two into his hole, loving how it made Dean stutter in his work.  
   
Dean pulled off, groaning and rocking against his hand.  Cas kneaded his ass cheek with one hand while working him open with the other hand.  He remembered his new bed and looked up.  
   
Oh, fuck.  Dean was fucking gorgeous.  “Oh, Dean...your body is a sight to behold.”  He watched as Dean arched his back, craning his ass.  “Oooohhh, naughty.”  He watched in the mirror as Dean’s body rocked back, taking his fingers while his head worked up and down on his dick.  His hands were balled into the duvet and Castiel marveled at the whole scene.  Dean absolutely took his breath away.  
   
He heard Dean chuckle, closing his eyes at the feel it shivered down his dick.  “Dean.  I want you.”  He had never felt so desperate to have someone before.  Dean pulled off him, shivering at the rapid pace Cas began to stretch him.  Cas scooted up until he was sitting, with Dean still on all fours, his ass right above his lap for all he wanted to do with it.  
   
He pulled his fingers out, cupping Dean’s hanging cock and balls.  “So nice,” he crooned, sliding down Dean’s dick a few times.  
   
Dean was trembling slightly.  Cas slid his hands on his cheeks again.  He was so...submissive.  So open.  All Cas wanted to do was protect and claim him for his own.  Keep him safe from the rest of the world.  He massaged more lube onto his fingers, circling Dean’s hole.  
   
“Where do you want me?” Dean puffed.  
   
He spread Dean’s cheeks, delving three fingers in to stretch him, watching the skin give to him.  “You’d go wherever I told you to go, wouldn’t you?” Cas said smoothly as he leaned in and added his tongue to spread Dean open.  
   
“Yyyyyyeah!  Wherever. Just fuck me.  However you want.  Use me Cas.  Please!”  
   
Cas was on his knees in a flash.  He scooped Dean off his hands, holding him against his chest to speak just behind his ear.  “Read about you and your dirty sex parties.”  
   
“Yeah,” Dean said in a smaller voice.  
   
“Is that what you wished was happening?  Wished you were getting used?”  He sunk two fingers inside easily, splaying them apart.  Dean gasped and reached around to grope at him.  
   
“I did!” Dean gasped, gripping the pole of the bed near him, “The parties weren’t my idea.  And...I did have sex a lot, but I was always doing the banging.”  
   
Images of Dean having sex made him feel possessive and protective of him.  His fingers swirled and he bit along Dean’s neck and shoulder.  “Ooooohh, so, you were being a rock star.”  
   
“I-I couldn’t let anyone... I didn’t trust anyone,” Dean said quieter, a tight look furrowed Dean’s brow.  Cas wanted to fix it instantly.  
   
In a wave of awe, he sucked in a breath, nosing at Dean’s ear.  His jarring fingers switched gear to stroke and spread.  “You trust me.”  
   
“I do,” Dean whispered back.  
   
Cas slid both hands around him, bracing his chest as he slid his cock along the stretched hole.  “I trust you too,” he admitted, just now realizing how true that was.  How he could take the lead and be himself.  “Right now though, I want to make sure you keep coming home to me, so I’m just gonna fuck you,” he slid fully inside, “until you can’t remember anyone’s name but mine.”  The end came out in a bossy growl as he pushed Dean forward onto his hands again.  
   
“Cas,” Dean moaned, rocking back into him.  
   
“That’s right,” Cas coaxed.  
   
“Want you, Cas,” Dean moaned, fucking back onto him, moving his feet and widening his legs to open as fully as he could.  “Cas!”  
   
Cas pumped into him, gripping his hips hard.  “Dean, so perfect!”  His mind was spinning.  
   
“Cas, Cas,” Dean whined.  
   
“That’s right, keep callin’ my name,” Cas pounded harder, squirting more lube to ease the building friction.  He pulled out, swiping another coat on.  
   
“No, no,” Dean whined, powerless to behave anything other than needy at this point.  
   
“Just making it better,” Cas soothed, shoving back inside.  “I want this to feel goooood, Dean.”  
   
“So good,” Dean murmured, his arms collapsing down to his elbows.    
   
“You like that?” Cas continued pumping in and out, watching Dean’s back strain and flex against him.  
   
“So good,” Dean repeated, eyes closed and lost to little more than his ass.  Cas recognized the look.  His body was loose, eyes closed, face relaxed.  Dean was in subspace.  His mind would be clear of everything except need, need, need.  And even that could vanish, and he could be floating numbly.  Dean was so open, Cas felt like he could walk right into his soul and look around.  It was too open, too fast.  He slowed his pumping hips, running a hand up Dean’s back, nails scraping dully.  
   
Dean took a deep breath.  
   
“Come on, baby, come back to me.”  He leaned over Dean’s body, feeling hot and tight.  He was getting close.  
   
“Dean,” he whispered, nipping at his neck pounding hard, jolting Dean against his own mouth.  “Dean.”  
   
“Cas,” Dean muttered, taking another deep, dragging breath.  “Caaaasss.”  
   
He felt Dean come back to himself, muscles firming, ass gripping, head tipping to give him more neck to bite.    
   
“Fuck!” Dean bucked hard against him.  “Fuck me, Cas,” he barely said, rocking too hard to say much of anything coherently.  “Gonna come!”  
   
Cas was losing himself in the high.  “Come, Dean!  All over your new bed!”  He pounded hard, losing the thread of sanity he’d had.  “Bought ‘em for you!  Make ‘m yours!”  
   
“Uh!  C-Cas!”    
   
How they had ended up at the post of the bed, Cas couldn’t say, he’d probably fucked Dean so hard they worked their way to the corner.  Dean gripped the pole, heaving.  Cas grabbed his cock that felt like a hot rocket, so overloaded it felt unnatural.  He stroked, moaning loudly.  He was shaking, stroking, biting, moaning.  Dean, both hands gripping the pole, arched back into him so hard his head went back onto Castiel’s shoulder, giving him a beautiful view of the last two pumps and Dean coming like a fountain.  
   
“So good,” Cas whispered urgently.  He stroked and watched more cum spray the bed frame and duvet.  “Mine,” he gasped, milking the mess Dean’s softening dick had become until Dean was gasping for air.  
   
Cas, holding almost all Dean’s weight on his lap, rocked into his ass, feeling it quake back in response.  “Whose bed is this?” Cas whispered.  
   
“Mine,” Dean gasped, high and loose.  “Yours, wanna be yours, Cas.”  
   
“You wanna be mine?” Cas asked, another hedonistic laugh bubbling up as he bit Dean’s shoulder.  “Then sit up and let me fuck you.”  
   
Dean’s eyes were open again, green so bright they looked like jewels.  He gathered his strength, leaned forward and gripped the pole, bouncing his ass back into Cas’ dick with a moan. “Want you to come,” Dean whined.  
   
The sight of Dean holding that fucking pole, the words ‘mine’ and ‘yours’ still heavy in the air, Cas was lost.  He pumped fast as a jack-hammer until his world exploded.  He pulled out, coming on Dean’s back as well as what was inside him.  He reveled in the ecstasy of it as Dean moaned at the cum running down his back.  
   
“Fuck,” Dean sighed, head dropping to lay on his arm.  
   
“Mine,” Cas whispered.  He ran his hand through his own cum, feeling it slip along Dean’s skin.  He wrapped his hand gently around Dean’s dick, mixing the two.  He pulled his hand back, rubbing all the cum from (and into) Dean’s back.  He gathered Dean in his arms, taking him from the pole like a rag doll.  Dean turned his head and body, crooking himself into Cas’ neck.  
   
“Dean,” Cas whispered, kissing his mouth, which he hadn’t touched in entirely too long.  More kissing.  It was so good.  So sweet.  And hot.  And good.  “Dean,” he grinned, still feeling high as a kite, “I’m so glad you’re back.  Stay with me.  Stay here.”  He wanted to follow that with an ‘I love you.  You make my entire world whole, my life feels complete, marry me, move in, have my babies, grow old with me.  Forever.  You’re the one!  Love!  I’m in love!  So fucking sweet, love is!’  He squeezed his eyes shut to hold it all in, squeezing Dean in a hug.  
   
“Okay,” Dean whispered.  “I’ll stay here if you really want me to.”  
   
“More than anything,” Cas murmured into his hair, fighting back tears.  Dean Winchester was really fucking with his emotions.  He was a basket case of gooey emotions!  Gabe was going to kill him!  
   
He laughed at the thought. Still holding Dean, he pulled the duvet and sheets back, revealing the new flannel floral sheets that looked darling in the Victorian.  He laid Dean back into them with a bit of cooperation on his part, snuggled into him and pulled the covers over them.  
   
“Why do you keep laughing?” Dean asked, a note of concern in his wrecked voice.  
   
Cas came up onto one elbow, looking down at him, waiting for eye contact.  “You make me very happy, Dean.  I don’t want to scare you off, but you name it, and it’s yours.  My affection, my trust, my home, my heart...Dean...”  
   
Dean stared at him, his mouth opening and closing again.  “Shit.  This is...Cas...”  
   
“It’s crazy, I know,” he stared down at the dried cum on Dean’s chest.  “It’s...”  
   
Dean shifted, still staring at him.  “I love...”. Cas swelled with hope, “the thought of staying here.”  
   
Cas deflated, but fought to not let it show.  “Good.  You belong here, Dean.”  With me.  “Our brothers - ”  
   
Dean made a face of annoyance.  “Our brothers can kiss my ass.  Everything was fine until Gabe butt in and then I got so damn worried about what Sam would think or how my life would affect Sam, that I damn near ruined my own.  Fuck that.  We can all be happy, Cas.  This is NOT a hook up.  This is...so much more.”  
   
Cas kissed him again.  “Yes, it is.  Much more, Dean.”  He sat up, staring down at him.  “When you’re ready to hear how much more, let me know.”  
   
A look of understanding dawned on Dean’s face.  His hand gripped Cas’ upper arm more possessively.  He nodded a tiny fraction.  Cas smiled, dropping a kiss onto his lips to lighten the seriousness.  “Whenever you’re ready,” he whispered.    
   
Whenever you’re ready, I’ll tell you how perfect you are.  How special.  How I’m falling so hard in love with you.  How your submissiveness suits me so completely it frightens me.  Someday soon.  
   
He smoothed a hand over Dean’s cheek.  He poured all the love that was thrumming through his body into Dean’s skin.  He’d say it when Dean was ready.  For now, he whispered gentler things.  How gorgeous he was, how glad he was he was here, how fucking delicious his freckles were.    
   
Making Dean laugh and squirm was easier than dealing with what really needed said.  But hearing his chuckle made him light up inside.    
   
They both collapsed back into the bed again.  Cas stared up at the mirror, catching Dean’s eye.  “Hello,” he grinned.  
   
“Hey, sexy,” Dean grinned, lacing his fingers behind his head, shoving the sheet down with his foot to reveal his chest and hip and one leg.    
   
“Oh Dean,” he marveled up at him.  “How are you real?”  
   
Dean’s cocky grin faltered, his eyes moving away.  Cas reached back to the post nearest him, flipping the little switch to change the mirror to smoky black.  
   
Dean sat up, crossing his legs, pulling the duvet over his lap.  “Cas...this is going really fast.  Am I...you gotta tell me if I’m moving too fast or overstepping.”  
   
“Dean,” Cas sat up quickly, “you and I...” he swallowed, scooting close enough that their knees were touching.  “You said we didn’t fit...but Dean, I’ve never met anyone who fit me like you do.”  
   
Dean smirked.  “I broke into your house.”  
   
“I knocked you out.”  
   
“You had to defend yourself from me!” Dean laughed.  
   
“I handled myself just fine,” Cas laughed, pushing Dean back down to the bed.  “And I knocked you out.  I’m the dangerous one here.”  
   
Dean fought a laugh.  “I practically squatted at your house for a week.”  
   
“Nonsense.  I love that you’re writing room has made you comfortable enough to use my bathroom as your own,” Cas chuckled, kissing his knuckles.  
   
Dean winced.  “I did just insert myself here, didn’t I?”  
   
“Inserting is my favorite,” Cas grinned.  
   
Dean rolled his eyes with a laugh.  His smile sobered, but his eyes were still sparkling.  “My writing room, huh?”  
   
“Your writing room.”  
   
Dean licked his lips.  “Did you tear all my shit down?”  
   
“Of course not,” Cas frowned softly.  “I hoped you’d be back.  I was...really hoping you would be back.”  
   
“Sorry I ran.  I won’t do that again.”  
   
Cas leaned down, kissing him.  “I know you won’t.  If there’s a next time, I’ll chase you down and smother you with kisses until you can’t remember your own name.”  
   
“You’re so good at that,” Dean said back softly, kissing him back.  
   
“Good at what?” Cas grinned, hovering just over his mouth.  
   
“Making me forget...everything.”  
   
Cas kissed him again, thinking back on the moments Dean had given himself over so completely.  “I think we better get up before I have to take you apart again.  I sooo like taking you apart.”  
   
With his eyes so warm and his face relaxed and happy, Cas sat up, taking his hand.  “Dean, will you move in?”  
   
Happiness shifted to shock.  “When you said stay...I thought you meant for the night.”  
   
“I meant stay,” Cas clarified.  “I know you like this house.  And me.  And it feels so much better when you’re here.”  
   
Dean sat up, his shock dipping to worry.  “Cas...this house is cool.  But it is NOT why I’m here.”  
   
Cas chuckled.  “I know that.”  His eyes drifted down Dean’s torso.  “Your body language tells me everything.”  He grinned back up at Dean, thinking about how fucking perfect he looked holding the post of his bed, giving himself so easily.  He had a lot of things to ask Dean.  And he wanted all the time in the world to ask them.  “I want you here.  With me.  Every day, Dean.”  
   
“That’s really fast,” Dean murmured, still staring at him.  
   
“It’s taken too long already,” Cas swore to him.  “Will you?”  
   
Dean nodded.  A disbelieving grin tugged his lips.  “Yeah.  I’ll freaking move in!  This is so crazy!”  
   
“Is it?” Cas asked, truly wondering.  
   
Dean’s eyes widened as he stared at him, still grinning.  “No.  It isn’t.  And that’s what’s so freakin’ crazy.”  
   
“You said you were mine,” Castiel reminded him, capturing his hand to kiss his fingers.    
   
Dean stared at him.  
   
Plenty of things could be said during sex.  Dean must not have meant it.  He grinned softly, ready to apologize if he had gone too far, when Dean interrupted his thought.  
   
“I meant it,” Dean said quietly.  “I need...”  
   
Castiel knew what he needed.  He kissed him hard.  “I won’t let you fall Dean.  I won’t let you fail.  I promise.”  
   
Dean’s lips shifted before he actually spoke, giving Castiel an uncertain look.  “I’ve been such an idiot, Cas.  I have a lot of shit to clean up before I drag you into anything.”  
   
Castiel licked his lips, giving Dean a stern look.  “You really need to speak more kindly about yourself, Dean.  You are not, nor have you ever been an idiot.”  
   
Dean sighed.  
   
“And don’t feel so bad, Dean.  At least you can clean your mess up.  I haven’t even told you the things that lurk in the depths of my closets.”  
   
Dean quirked a brow at him.  “Well...whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.”  
   
Cas huffed a tiny laugh, kissing Dean.  “And that’s why you’re mine.  And I’m yours.”  
   
Dean laughed.  “Cause nobody else would be stupid enough to get drug into my mess.”  
   
Cas arched an eyebrow.  “No one else would be courageous enough.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “Alright, Cas.  But ya know, it won’t be as easy to fix me as it is to fix this house.”  
   
Cas nodded, glancing around the room.  “Nor me.”  
   
   
 


	9. To the Tadpole Galaxy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for memories of Bobby’s death and talking about alcoholism and depression.
> 
> Lots of discussions about lots of things :)

Chapter 9:  To the Tadpole Galaxy  
   
   
   
Sam paced around the living room.  It took everything in his power to not go to Castiel’s house and figure out what the hell was going on.  Dean had texted him two hours ago, saying he needed to talk to Cas first.  
   
Dean and Cas hardly knew each other.  What the hell did they have to talk about?  Gabe had told him he had interrupted his brother practically fishing Dean’s dick out of his pants on the kitchen counter.  But still, he couldn’t imagine Dean had said much of anything to Cas.  
   
He flopped onto the couch, turning the channel on the TV.  The door opened and he tossed the remote, instantly forgotten.  “Dean?”  
   
“Yeah,” Dean answered, coming into the living room, Cas behind him.  “Hey, Sammy.”  
   
Sam stood, staring at him.  “Hey, Sammy?  I don’t think so.  You,” his eyes flicked to Cas, making him hesitate.  His eyes went back to Dean.  He looked...relaxed.  Really relaxed.  His shoulders were loose, the tension lines gone from his face, and he slumped into the recliner with a damn-near dreamy look in his eyes.  “You stopped at Cas’ to have sex before you got here?” Sam summed up incredulously.  
   
Dean stared at him with half a grin.  
   
“Jesus, Dean,” Sam huffed.  
   
“It wasn’t planned,” Dean flicked his hand out, not even rising to Sam’s frustration.  
   
“Sorry, Sam.  We did have...things to talk about,” Cas interjected with a guilty bow of his head.  
   
Dean gave Cas one of the most gentle smiles he’d ever seen his brother share.  It pulled the wind out of his sails of irritation.  He sat down on the couch, motioning for Cas to come sit.  “Where the hell have you been, Dean?  And what’s going on?  And I don’t want the short version.”  
   
Dean sighed, looking contemplative rather than showing his typical hedging techniques.  It threw Sam off again.  
   
“Told you.  I was headed to Crowley’s in New York.  Stopped in St. Louis.  That’s when I called you.  I waited there until Crowley came.  Then we came here.”  
   
It was frustrating to see how friggin’ relaxed he was.  It shouldn’t be.  He wanted Dean to be happy.  But he had been a wreck since Dean left and now here he was.  Sated.  Happy.  He scolded himself that this is exactly what he wanted for Dean.  He really did.  And now that he was dripping in it, it was pissing him off.  
   
“Sam...I just wanna say, I’ve spent a long time running from a hard situation.”  
   
“Ten years,” Sam nodded, trying not to let any bitterness bleed through.  
   
Dean shook his head, sitting forward with a more concentrated look.  “The situation wasn’t you, Sam.  You were the only good part.  It’s why I stayed away.  You just kept...doing good.  I didn’t want to ruin any of that for you, man.  I was like a...tornado of...trouble.  Really.  I just fucked up one thing after the next.”  
   
“Dean,” Cas said kindly, giving him an imploring look.  
   
Dean rolled his eyes.  “I seemed to attract a lot of trouble,” Dean amended.  
   
Sam cleared his throat.  “Are you talking about being in rehab?”  
   
Dean looked up at him with some surprise.  “You knew about that?”  
   
Sam nodded.  “I knew you were in rehab in 2010 and again last year.  I know Bobby straightened you up a few times.  And I know Crowley has...removed you from several other precarious situations.  I, uh, had an...understanding with Crowley.  He kept me updated.”  
   
Dean looked scandalized.  “You never said anything!”  
   
“Dean,” Sam squinted at him, “the first time was all over the friggin’ news!”  
   
Dean groaned, rubbing his eyes with one hand.  “I don’t read the news!”  
   
“Well, I do.  And always news about you.  Crowley kept me up to date on what was real and what was bullshit.  Figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”  
   
Dean sighed, shrinking back into his chair.  “I just didn’t want to drag you into everything I was drug into.”  
   
“Dean, you’re my brother.  I was right there, whether you knew it or not.”  
   
“Friggin’ Crowley,” Dean swore.  
   
“Hey, if he hadn’t kept me up to date, I’da been in your business and you woulda been pissed at me,” Sam shrugged.    
   
Dean looked away guiltily.  “Sorry, Sam.”  
   
Sam shrugged, “It was better than not knowing what was going on with you.”  
   
Dean studied his hands in his lap.  “So, I guess you know about South Dakota.”  
   
Sam nodded.  “Crowley called when he had dropped you off at SafeHaven.  The rehab.”  He glanced over at Cas, who looked a little lost.  “Dean had a hard time dealing with the loss of his friend Bobby.”  
   
Cas nodded, seeming to understand more, which implied he at least knew about Bobby.  “He was a great guy,” Sam added.  “For a few years, he kept Dean in line.  That is when Amara wasn’t dragging him into one thing or another.”  
   
“Yeah, he ran a shut-up-and-deal kinda rehab,” Dean grinned sadly.  “The guy took care of me when I came home from the last two tours with Amara.  Helped me get clean.  Sober.  Put my ass to work around his place fixing anything.  Working on cars.  He kept me distracted until I was ready to write again.”  He sat there a moment, staring into the carpet, lost in memories.  “We’d work on books together.  He had more lore than anyone I ever met.  Going through his books was better than any internet or library.  We’d hash out plots and work through monster stories.”  Dean laughed to himself, thinking back with a fond grin.  “He sucked at characters though.  Not a people person at all.  It was part of why we got along so damn well.  His place was private.”  
   
“I wish I would have known him,” Cas added softly, sharing another soft look with Dean.  
   
Sam rubbed a hand over his mouth.  “When he died, it was really unexpected.  Aneurism.   Dean found him sitting at the desk in his den.”  
   
“He was researching that fucking wendigo.  It’s part of why I can’t finish that fucking book!  I don’t have it in me to kill the damn thing!  Bobby helped bring it to life.  I don’t...I don’t think I can kill it.”  
   
Sam frowned sadly.  “Bobby would have wanted you to finish the book, Dean.  He loved your books.  And he loved you.”  
   
Silence filled the room for several moments before Dean nodded and forced a quick grin.  “I know.  He loved you too, Sam.  Always talked about dragging you up there to live near us.”  He sat back with a heavy sigh.  “So, did Crowley tell you about Amara?”  
   
“He doesn’t offer information, Dean.  I have to call him a hundred times and damn-near sell him my soul to get information on you if it isn’t critical.”  Sam laced his fingers loosely, resting his arms on his knees.  “What happened with Amara?”  
   
“After Bobby died...I was drinking a lot.  One night at a bar outside of town, I got pretty shit-faced.  Got into it with some locals.  I got arrested.  Amara showed up, tried to make it a fucking publicity stunt.  Crowley shut her down.  Bailed me out and kept the whole thing quiet.”  
   
“Can’t imagine Amara let that slide,” Sam said bitterly.  He had met her several times and never liked her.  He hated the way she looked at his brother like he was a piece of meat.  She touched him too much and she owned him like a lap dog for a few years.  It was fair to say he hated her.  
   
Dean blew out a breath.  “Yeah, well, it turned out to be the last straw for me.  I pulled out of my contract with Darkness Publishing.  Crowley did all he could, but I lost a lot of money.  I have had to file for bankruptcy.  I lost my house.  My earnings toward my first three books and any future earnings on them.  I lost my rights to all characters and franchise with the first three books.  I lost all my money.”  
   
“Dean,” Sam said in shock.  “I had no idea.”  
   
“I did manage to keep Bobby’s place, because it’s a shared estate with Jo.”  
   
Sam shook his head, irritated with Amara. Damn.  It was a lot.  Everything Dean had worked so hard for.  Sacrificed for.  After all the shit Amara had put him through...for her to end up with rights to his books and taking almost all his possessions... “What a fucking bitch.”  
   
“Yeah, it was worth going bankrupt for.  I had to get away from her.  Oh, and Crowley left with me,” Dean clarified.  “Hence, why I’m still dropping on his freaking doorstep.”  
   
Sam grinned.  For as surly and rotten as Crowley seemed to be, even till the end, he had done right by his brother.  And that went a long way in his book.  “That couldn’t have been easy for him.”  
   
“No,” Dean agreed.  “He lost a lot of other clients.  But the old buzzard refused to let me go down alone.”  He smiled fondly.  
   
Sam was glad Crowley had been there.  He was glad Dean had others to turn to.   But it hurt that Dean never let him in to see the pain or fear or sadness.  He only let him see his strong side or angry side or occasionally his funny side.  Sam shook his head.  He wanted to know all sides of his brother.  And not by calling Crowley for the short-notes.  
   
“I hope you know, Dean,” Sam explained slowly, “that when it comes to you, nothing is too much.  We’re brothers, Dean.  That means we’ve got each other’s backs through good AND bad times.  Thick and thin.  I can handle it!  I’m not five, Dean.”  
   
“I know,” Dean said, getting to his feet to pace.  “I just...”  
   
“I know,” Sam nodded.  “It’s over though.  You’re here.  You’re home.  You have family.  I know Gabe was a jerk but Dean, he’s probably gonna be around for...a long time.  Forever, maybe.”  
   
That got looks from both Cas and Dean.    
   
“I’m just sayin’,” Sam added nervously.  
   
Cas broke into a grin.  “I hope so, Sam.”    
   
Sam could feel his cheeks flushing a little.  
   
“Me too,” Dean added, surprising him.  “Gabe was after Crowley too, apparently.  He met us at Cas’ place and apologized.  Not that he really needed to.  I was the one that took off.  Like an idiot.”  
   
Cas frowned at him.  “Don’t call yourself an idiot, Dean.”  
   
Dean shrugged a shoulder, looking almost apologetic.  “But I won’t make that mistake again,” Dean added, looking at Cas.  “No more running away from my problems.”  
   
Sam had to chuckle at the pair of them.  Whatever power Cas had over his brother seemed to be a good one.  
   
“Your brother,” Cas explained slowly, holding Dean’s gaze, “is learning to speak more kindly about himself.”  
   
Sam studied the pair curiously.  It was still so bizarre to see his co-worker, and his brother exchanging such heavy looks.  He jumped up, seeing Dean’s blushing grin.  “I’m calling Gabe and telling him to get over here too.  Looks like we can finally have that Friday night dinner we talked about.  You know, the one me and Gabe planned so you two could get to know each other?”  
   
Cas and Dean both grinned and blushed at that.  Sam left the room, pulling his phone out to call Gabe.  
   
“Yello?” Gabe answered.  
   
“Hey.”  
   
“Samsquatch.  Baby, please say I’m forgiven!  I --”  
   
“I heard,” Sam smiled, shaking his head.  “I heard you tracked down Crowley and talked to Dean already.”  
   
“I did,” Gabe answered.  
   
“I kinda love you for that.”  
   
“Just kinda?  Did you know I’ve spent the last three hours hanging out with Crowley?”  
   
“You did?  Oh God!”  
   
“Yeah.  Funny guy, actually.  But I’m lookin’ for more than a ‘kinda’.”  
   
Sam sighed, leaning against his counter.  “Gabe, I love you.  To Mars and back.”  
   
“You know Pluto IS a planet, right?”  
   
Sam chuckled.  “I love you to the Tadpole Galaxy and back.”  
   
“Mmm.  That sounds either made up or really far away,” Gabe said in a low, warm voice.  
   
“It’s really far away.  Like, hundreds of millions of light years, Gabe.”  
   
“You love me that much?”  
   
“I do,” Sam sighed.  “I’m sorry I got so bent out of shape.”  
   
“It’s okay.  It’s a brother thing.  I get it.  But...Sam, love of my life, I don’t want to fight over anything to do with our brothers. Or anything for that matter.  I was a jerk for freaking out over Dean’s past. And I promise I’ll do better. I really do kinda love you too.”  
   
“Come home,” Sam whispered, not really meaning to.  He just wanted Gabe in his arms and to kiss him.  “I’m sorry.”  
   
“Forgiven, forgotten, and I’m on my way!”  Gabe sounded so relieved, and honestly, Sam felt the same way.  “Oh,” Gabe added.  “I’m bringing Crowley too.”  
   
“Great,” he laughed.  “Ask him if he likes Chinese.  We’ll order in.”  
   
He listened as Gabe asked and he could hear the deep, British rumble of Crowley’s voice.  
   
“Says he’s done some Chinese chicks, but the food is tasty too.  His words, not mine.”  
   
“Okay,” Sam laughed.  
   
“We’ll be over in a few.  Love you to the tadpole pond and back too, ya know.”  
   
“I know,” Sam grinned, hanging up.  He blushed a little, seeing Dean standing in the doorway.    
   
“You two good, I take it?” Dean grinned.  
   
“Yeah,” Sam admitted.  “Dean...I love him.  I’m thinking about asking him to move in with me.”  
   
Dean’s eyebrows raised.  “Really?  I gotta say...you two fit together pretty perfectly.  Kinda like me and Cas.  It just...really works.”  
   
Sam raised a brow at that.  “I’m glad you two seemed to hit it off really well.  I take it you two are going to what...date?”  
   
“Dating?” Dean chuckled.  “Yeah.  He’s...”. Dean cleared his throat, shifting his feet.  “I’m gonna move in with him.”  
   
“What?” Sam couldn’t even stem the blurt.  “Dean!”  
   
Dean held a hand up.  “I know.  It’s too fast.  I’m not ready.  We barely know each other.  I know.  We know.  But Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, when you know...you just know.”  
   
Sam could hardly process what his brother was saying.  “Dean...How long have you known him?  Two weeks?”  
   
“Not even,” Dean laughed a little breathlessly.  
   
Sam threw his hands out.  “Are you serious?”  
   
“Very,” Dean answered, his grin sobering.    
   
Well, what the hell was he going to say about that?  Nothing.  Not a damn thing.    
   
Dean just stood there, hands tucked into his jean’s pockets.  A look of determination on his face.  It was a good look.    
   
Sam reined in his worries and snap judgements.  He nodded slowly.  “I’m...really, uh, supportive,” he shrugged.  “Cas is great.  You deserve the best, Dean.  You do.  And...I think he’s good for you.  I don’t really know how he cracked you so quick, but...more power to him.”  He shrugged again, smiling.  “Good for you, man.”  
   
Dean seemed to relax even more, looking at him more confidently.  “He just...gets me.  All my weird shit.  He just...” Dean shrugged, looking pleasantly bewildered, “gets me.”  
   
Sam crossed the kitchen, capturing his brother in a hug.  “Love you, Dean.”  
   
“You too,” Dean admitted, hugging him back.  “To the tadpoles and back.  Whatever the hell that means.”  
   
Sam laughed, backing up to let him go.  “That’s a lot.  Means you love me a whole lot!”  
   
“I do,” Dean nodded, blushing.  “You’re a damn good brother, Sam.  And my best friend.  I’m gonna do better.”  
   
Sam nodded.  He’d heard this before.  But maybe this time it would stick.  As he glanced into the living room at Cas sitting patiently on the couch, he believed it even more.  All Dean needed was stability.  Maybe Castiel’s sensible lifestyle would bring Dean some stability.  
   
Or...it would be another let-down in a long string of them throughout Dean’s life.  No wonder Dean had run.  Amara had yanked him around for years, drug him through the mud, he knew she was to blame for getting him on drugs and pushing the alcohol.  But she stole his rights to his first three books.  It was like taking his first-born child.

   
   
**************************************  
   
   
   
After a long night of Chinese food, laughs, and real conversation, Dean felt like he was doing the right thing.  He belonged here.  Hell, even Crowley was liking it here.  
   
“Moose!” Crowley yelled, busting into a laugh after he nailed him for at least the fourth time tonight with his elbow.  
   
“I swear!” Sam scoffed, scooting his chair over closer to Gabe.  “It’s like you keep creeping closer!”  
   
“It’s not me!  Your arms are ten miles long!” Crowley bantered back, making Dean and Cas crack up laughing.  
   
“Don’t listen to the angry leprechaun, baby,” Gabe soothed, pulling Sam closer to him as even Sam had to laugh.  
   
Crowley shook his head, tossing a piece of fortune cookie at Gabe, who neatly caught it with his mouth.  
   
They all roared into laughter at the shock of it and the look of utter disbelief on Crowley’s face.  “He’s like a fucking piranha!”  
   
Gabe coughed, chewed the cookie, pulling out a fortune, and laughed.  “Next time you point at me, that’s what you’re gettin’, Lucky!”

   
“Okay,” Sam butt in, holding his arms up to calm the rowdy group.  “Gabe’s a fish, I’m a moose, Dean’s a squirrel, so what’s Cas?”  
   
“No, no,” Dean and Crowley argued, shushing Sam.  
   
“He really is Moose, isn’t he?” Crowley deadpanned, making Dean stifle down another laugh.    
   
“Sam, it’s from Rocky and Bullwinkle.  The show!”  
   
“Oh,” Sam looked lost, then mildly annoyed.  “Oh!  So, not only am I tall, I’m slow!”  
   
“Now he’s getting it!” Dean and Crowley laughed.  
   
Sam rolled his eyes, shoving Crowley’s Scotch down the table, making him scramble after it.  “Then Crowley is Boris.”  
   
“Exactly!” Dean grinned.  
   
“No!” Crowley argued.  
   
“Yes!” They all yelled back.  
   
“Wait!  This is easy,” Crowley cleared his throat, lifting his glass of Scotch to the group.  “Castiel, you are Mr. Peabody.  Gabriel, I didn’t forget you!  You are Dudley Do-Right!”  
   
A raucous of arguments, counter arguments and laughter erupted.  All in all, it was one of the best nights Dean had had in a long time.  
   
As they wound down, Crowley planned on staying at Sam’s for the night.  As much as the two bickered, they did actually get along.    
   
“Let’s head to the house,” Dean yawned, leaning onto Cas’ shoulder.  
   
“See you tomorrow,” Cas grinned, waving to Sam and Gabe as he steered Dean out the door and into the chilly night with the rest of his things packed into his duffle bag.  
   
“Brrr!” Dean gasped.  The temperature had dropped quite a bit.  He shrank as much as he could into his coat, Cas looping an arm through his for the walk to his house.  
   
They walked quickly, saying little as the brisk air bit at their noses and ears.  
   
As they walked into Cas’ house, they pulled their coats off.  “I think that evening went well,” Cas said with a chipper air to his entire demeanor.  “Our brothers seem to have put aside their misgivings.  Not that I was waiting for their permission.”  
   
Dean chuckled at that as he followed Cas into the kitchen.  “You don’t wait on anyone’s permission for anything, do you?”  
   
Cas put their leftovers in the fridge and turned to Dean with a grin.  “No.  I don’t.”  
   
Dean felt a slight blush creep into his cold cheeks.  They shared a look.  
   
“Except you,” Cas said in a low, intimate rumble.  “I do need your permission.”  
   
Dean struggled for what to say to that.  “What do you mean?”  
   
Cas pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing.  “I think we should talk about sex.”  
   
Dean did not want to admit that he blanched at that.  But he did.  He shuffled back a step, fighting an embarrassed grin and an awkward frown.  “Wh-what do you want to know?”  
   
Cas watched him carefully before continuing, making Dean want to tug at the neckline of his t-shirt.    
   
“We’re good, right?” Dean asked nervously, worrying about what he had done with Cas, or what he had not done perhaps.  
   
Cas grinned, looking at the floor as he leaned against the kitchen counter.  His feet were crossed at the ankle and his hands perched on the counter’s edge.  “I want to be sure you like how things have been going.  With us.”  
   
Oh God.  “Yeah!  Is something wrong?” He fought the defensiveness in his voice, but Cas seemed to detect it anyway.  
   
“It seems you like to be dominated,” Cas went on, back to watching him closely.  
   
Dean ruffled a hand through his hair.  Did they have to talk about this?  Couldn’t they just...figure it out in bed?  It was working really damn well so far!  He stammered at what to say to that.  If he wasn’t dominant then what was he?  “Look, if you want to bottom -”  
   
Cas sprung away from the counter with a determined look in his eyes, putting his arms loosely around Dean’s waist, looking at him steadily.  “I need to know that what we’ve done so far has been okay.  Orgasm isn’t everything.  I want you to be happy.  And I don’t want to read you the wrong way.”  
   
Dean did pull at his neckline.  He felt caged-in by Cas.  He felt a little hot and like he didn’t want to talk about any of this!  
   
“Dean,” Cas whispered, searching his eyes.  “I just want to be sure you’re okay with how I’ve...handled things so far.”  
   
“Yeah, Cas.  It’s good.  Can’t we just figure it out as we go?” He asked weakly.  
   
Castiel’s eyes narrowed again.  “I’ve had problems in the past because I didn’t talk about what I wanted.  I felt incredibly frustrated in previous relationships.  It wasn’t until we had sex today that I was sure of some things I have thought many times about myself.”  He waited until Dean met his eyes again.  “I like to be...in charge.  Top.  I like...controlling you.  In bed.  And with absolute respect, we need to talk about a few things.”  
   
“Like what?” Dean asked, staring back at him like a rabbit caught in a snare.  
   
Cas thought carefully before answering.  “What I just said...did it...bother you?  Or did you like the sound of it?”  
   
Dean blushed.  
   
Cas grinned a little.  “Will it bother you if I am rather domineering in bed?”  
   
“No,” Dean admitted.  
   
Cas relaxed even more.  “Will it bother you if I manhandle you?”  
   
Dean’s breath caught.  He licked his lips, wanting to drown in the blue of Castiel’s eyes.  “No.”  
   
Cas seemed to fight a grin.  “Do you promise to tell me if you don’t like something?”  
   
“Yeah, Cas.  I think I see what you’re gettin’ at.  And yeah.  That’s what I want, okay?  I...I feel like I need it.  Someone strong enough to...handle me.”  Dean took a deep breath.  “I feel better when someone is in charge.  I can...just let go and...be free.”  
   
Castiel’s hands ran up his back, pulling him in for a hug.  “I have such a strong need to take care of you, Dean.  Though I know you are fully capable of taking care of yourself, I want to.”  He held Dean’s weight as he sagged against him in a silent agreement.  He suspected he and Dean were perfectly compatible.  They certainly had been so far.  
   
“Let’s go to bed,” he whispered, still holding him, his fingers rubbing gently on his back.  
   
“Yeah,” Dean nodded, standing up more fully.  He began checking door and window locks as Castiel did every night.  They eventually made their way to Cas’ bedroom, where he had to smile at the huge fucking bed that looked like it had always been there.  If Dean had not seen the room before its arrival, he would have thought surely it was here long ago.  
   
Except the mirror.  
   
Dean blushed as he took his clothes off.  Cas might have an annoying habit of talking about every damn detail.  But it was probably for the better.  Without his pushing, he probably wouldn’t say a word about anything.  That wasn’t going to happen.  Not on Castiel’s watch.  
   
“You’re grinning,” Castiel said quietly as he got into the bed.  
   
Dean grinned harder at that.  “Oh yeah?”  He crawled into the bed with the surreal notion that this could be his bed for the rest of his life.    
   
He dropped into the thick mattress that seemed to hold him just right, letting him sink in a bit.  “I love this bed.”  
   
“Good.”    
   
Dean grinned as Cas curled up next to him, his hand sliding down his side.  “I’m so glad you’re here tonight,” he whispered.  
   
“Me too,” Dean grinned, wiggling back into him, soaking in the heat from his body.  
   
“I’m so tired, Cas,” Dean admitted, eyes closed and heart suddenly heavy.  
   
“Sleep well,” Cas said softly, kissing his cheek, stealing a quick kiss, making Dean grin one more time before he slipped into sleep.  
   
   
   
   
   
   
 

 

   
 


	10. You Have the Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Crowley have a meeting. We get to meet Anna, Gabe and Castiel’s sister. And Sam Fucking Winchester takes a stand.

Chapter 10:  You Have The Right  
 

 

Saturday felt five days long.  The meeting with Crowley had been brutal.  He was pleased with the wendigo book.  Its progress and his re-writes.  He was also quite impressed with how much he had on the next book.  He seemed unimpressed with Cas’ house, but that was typical of Crowley.  His harsh editing was part of what made him such a good editor.  Mediocre work was rubbish and a waste of his time.  Good was subpar.  Great was standard.  And when you could light up his face and bring out that quiet little, ‘ahhh,’ with the grin?  That brought fucking chills.  You knew you were onto something hot at that point.  
   
“Dean,” Crowley paced in front of the wall that held most of his work on the wendigo book, “we need to wrap up the mess you left in South Dakota.”  
   
Dean slouched in the chair, staring at his blank laptop.  
   
“Your house has been taken.  Your car, your motorcycle, the house at the lake you were in the midst of buying... all that has been taken care of.  I had your things packed up and put into storage at Bobby’s.  Jo is checking on the place, but Dean...what are you going to do with it?  Jo can’t make any decisions without you, and you won’t return her calls.”  
   
Dean looked away at a crumpled piece of paper on the floor.  He wanted to forget the whole mess.  Forget he ever lived there.  Forget he ever hurt people so badly or got hurt so badly.  And Bobby was gone.  
   
“What does she want?” He managed.  
   
“She wants to meet with you!  And you’re going to do it.  You and I are getting on a plane and flying there.”  
   
Dean sighed, his eyes closing and his head drifting away.  Away from Crowley and his mean, nasty, hateful demands.  
   
“This is your mess, Dean!  We need to clean it up before it turns into something you can’t get away from.  And if you don’t take care of Jo, Ellen is going to crucify you.”  
   
Dean’s eyes opened.  He knew.  He knew all that.  But things were so good right here!  “My life has never been this functional before, Crowley!  Like...EVER!”  
   
“I know,” Crowley nodded, pacing.  
   
“If I go back there...”  
   
“What!” Crowley stopped in front of him, making him look at him.  “Your new boyfriend finds out you own a dying business and a rusty heap of sentimental rubbish?”  
   
Dean frowned hard at that.  
   
“That you are partners with someone who thinks you’re the devil incarnate?”  
   
“But...I didn’t kill Ash!”  
   
“I know!” Crowley snapped.  “So why don’t you explain that better to his family and put them out of their misery?  I told them as much.  I tried to do your dirty work for you, Dean, but they wouldn’t listen to me.  I’m just the dirty salesman who sold their loved one a dream that killed them.”  He paced again.  “They look at me as if I’M the devil.”  
   
Dean’s head hung.  “M sorry, Crowley.  It shoulda been me.”  
   
“It should have been you to pick up the pieces,” Crowley agreed.  “It should have been you to go with Jo to Bobby’s.  You failed.  And you did so with violent gusto.”  
   
Silence stabbed through both of them in the icy cold room.  Dean did not argue.  He had drunk himself into oblivion when Bobby died.  He wasn’t there for the viewing, the will reading, or the aftermath of lawyers.  He sent Crowley.  He was at the funeral.  It felt wrong.  Burying him.  He wasn’t done.  Bobby was not done with life!  They were in the middle of things!  They were writing and researching!  They were happy!  And, unbelievably, Dean was happy again!  And now Crowley wanted to drag him back in it?  Take him to a place where people hated him and knew what a failure he was.  
   
“Jo can’t do anything with Bobby’s business or his house until you agree.  So, either contact her lawyer and do what needs done, or you get on a plane with me and we settle this.”  
   
Dean deflated, staring at the crumpled paper again.  “She can have it.”  Just saying that felt wrong.  It felt so wrong.  Like it was not what Bobby wanted at all.  The paper tipped over, rolled, and rolled a little more.  
   
Dean stared at it as hard as his eyes would allow.  Did that just happen?  Was it a draft?  Was it Bobby?  Was Cas’ house really haunted?  What if it was Bobby?  What if he was here, listening, witnessing what a coward he was being?    
   
He would be so mad.  
   
“I’ll go,” he said weakly.  “I’ll go.”  
   
Crowley sighed, pulling out his phone.  “I’ll go with you.”  
   
Dean nodded.  He couldn’t disappoint Bobby.  He had given him part of his home.  And he had bound the deed so tight with him and Jo that he had to talk to her.  He had to make things right.  He had to explain what really happened.  He had been fine with letting them hate him.  But the truth was a little harder to admit.  And they weren’t going to like it much better than what they already believed.  
   
And he had to fucking fly again.  
   
Dammit.  
   
He sighed heavily.  The little paper had not moved again.  Maybe Bobby was mollified.  Or the draft had stopped.  Either way, he was determined to make Bobby happy.  
   
“Thank you, Crowley.”  
   
Crowley twitched a corner of his mouth, pacing as he clicked away on his phone.  
   
“We leave on Tuesday.”  
   
“Fuck.”  Dean leaned onto his elbows, catching his head in his hands.    
   
“Will this be you and me?  Or you, me, and Blue Eyes?”  
   
Dean wished Cas could go.  But he had just used a lot of his vacation on the house.  Teachers did not get a lot of time off because of their schedules.  “Just you and me.”  
   
“Very well.  We’ll be there Tuesday, Wednesday, and fly back here on Thursday.  That should give us enough time to meet with the Harvelle’s, their lawyer, your lawyer, go to Bobby’s...” Crowley stared up at the ceiling calculating.  “It’ll be tight, but it should be fine.  I’m sure you don’t want to be there any longer than necessary.”  
   
“Right.”  Dean swallowed the acid creeping up his throat.  But this needed done.  And then he would be back here.  Home.  
   
   
   
   
************************************************************  
   
   
Gabe exited out of his excel document for the expenditures for the month.  He grinned at his phone, which was on the desk on a video call to his sister.  
   
“You wild woman, Anna,” Gabe grinned.  
   
She laughed, leaning away from her screen and flipped her red hair over her shoulder.  “I told Mom you would harass me about going away for a few days.”  
   
“Harass seems like a strong word.”  Gabe finished the notes he was taking on the monthly expenses and focused solely on Anna.  “Pester, maybe.”  
   
“We’re leaving on Thursday.”  
   
“This creep got a last name?”  Gabe narrowed his eyes, watching Anna blush and grin and refuse him.  She had been talking about ‘Teddy’ for weeks.  They had started dating a month ago, and now the guy was inviting her along on a family trip to their lake house.  “Why would you go to a lake in November anyway?  It’s cold!”  
   
Anna sighed.  “I’d go anywhere.”  
   
“Excuse me while I hurl.”  Gabe grabbed his trash can and made noises into it, hearing Anna laugh.  
   
“You’d go anywhere Sam asked YOU to go!”  
   
“Ah!  That’s totally different.”  Gabe held a finger up in absolute knowledge.  
   
“Oh, this should be good.”  Anna slouched, resting her chin in her hand.  
   
“I am me.  And you are my precious baby princess sister.”  
   
“Excuse me while I hurl,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.  
   
“That’s how this works.  You are perfect and all these monsters circle around you, trying to steal your virtue, and I slay them.”  
   
She went from affronted to shocked.  “Gabriel!  There will be no slaying!  I’m telling you, this guy is so sweet!”  
   
“Uh huh,” Gabe smirked.  
   
“We met at church!” She insisted.  
   
“Oh yeah, cuz that will impress me,” Gabe rolled his eyes.  “All Mom’s seedy friends go to church.”  
   
“Cas says I should go for it!” She pouted.  
   
Gabe’s head dropped backwards, popping back up with a smirk.  “Of course he does.  He trusts all the wrong people.  Besides, he’s so distracted, I’m surprised you even got ahold of him.”  
   
“Gabriel.”  
   
Gabe sighed, staring at his sister.  “Okay.  All teasing aside, tell me about Teddy.”  
   
“Weeelllll,” she gushed, eyes searching her bedroom ceiling as she searched for words.  “He’s so sweet.  He doesn’t care one single bit that I’m in a wheelchair.”  
   
Gabe grinned a little.  
   
“He’s tall and has this devilish smile that is so cute.  He has sandy-blonde hair and blue eyes.  He’s younger than me by four years, but it’s no big deal.”  
   
Gabe frowned.  “So, he’s like...22?”  
   
“Yep.”  
   
“Mm.”  
   
“How old is Sam again?” She asked, staring at him sharply.  
   
“Right.  Age doesn’t really matter.”  Gabe glanced over at a picture of him and Sam together at a baseball game.  He grinned, relenting on the overly protective brother front.  “So, is he in school or working or what?”  
   
“He’s graduating from college in May.”  She looked down shyly.  “He’s a really sweet guy.  I’m going to meet his dad, who he’s really close to.”  
   
“If you’re happy, I’m happy.”  He gave his little sister a reassuring smile.  “What’s Mom’s take on the guy?”  
   
“Oh, she thinks he’s wonderful.”  
   
Gabe sat back.  His mother would approve anyone who attended their church.  Gabe and Castiel were not nearly so easily won over.  “What’s he going to school for?”  
   
“Social work, I think.”  
   
“Is he a Theodore?  Or just the stuffed animal variety Teddy?”  
   
She smirked, raising a brow.  “I’m not giving you his name so you or Cas can look up his whole family and start poking holes at him.  It’s no wonder I’m 26 and still single.  As if the wheelchair isn’t a detractor.  My thug brothers drive the rest away.”  
   
Gabe gave her a pouting lip.  “Love you.”  
   
“Ugh!  You’re impossible.”  
   
“Impossible to hate,” he grinned, blinking rapidly, knowing how to win her over.  
   
She sighed heavily, grinning despite herself.  “Why are you so damn cute?”  
   
“Runs in the family,” Gabe grinned.  “I gotta go, Anna.  I’ll talk to you next week.”  
   
“Okay.  Love you.”  
   
“Love you more.”  
   
He hung up, his grin wilting at the empty screen.  He needed to stop being so overprotective.  But...was it really worth it?  Nope.  Not a bit.  He swiped his screen to start researching ‘Teddy’.  
   
He texted Cas to see if he had started researching.  It might be ridiculous to some, but when you had almost lost two of your siblings, this was the most adjusted way he could think of to live a normal life.  
   
   
**************************************************************  
   
   
Castiel might be the angel of Thursdays, but Cas’ favorite day, by far, was Saturday.  He and Dean had slept in.  He had taken his time with Dean this morning.  Took him hard and slow from behind, making him tell him what he wanted and loving how he asked if he could come.  It had taken everything Castiel had to hold his own orgasm off.  He waited, watching Dean spiral and blow beneath him.  Only then did he let go and almost lose his mind at the insanity of orgasming with Dean Winchester.  It had all been quiet with whispers and a steady, slow pace.  By the time he was finished, they both fell asleep again, exhausted.  
   
Dean had his meeting with Crowley in Dean’s writing room later that morning.  Castiel kept himself busy downstairs to give them privacy.  He wasn’t so sure he had done the right thing when he saw both men as Crowley left.  
   
Cas put his paintbrush down and washed his hands in the kitchen sink.  He found Dean still standing at the front door, looking out blankly out the stained-glass window.  He stepped up behind him, putting his chin on Dean’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around Dean’s middle.  Dean tipped his head, touching their heads together and cupped his hands over Cas’.  
   
“How did it go?” He asked softly.  
   
“Fine.  I gotta go back to South Dakota on Tuesday.  I have shit to take care of.”  
   
“Is that going to be difficult?” Cas asked, studying Dean’s clenching jaw from the side.  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
Cas kissed his neck.  “You can handle it.”  
   
Dean nodded, looking doubtful.  
   
“Want me to come with you?”  
   
“Yes,” Dean answered automatically.  
   
Castiel began figuring out how he could ask for more time off, when Dean turned in his arms, taking his arms in a dance position.  “No.  I’ll be fine.  But I always want you with me.”  He dipped forward, kissing him and spinning him a step, dancing in the foyer.  
   
“There isn’t even music playing!” Cas laughed, falling in step with him, hoping he didn’t have wet paint on his clothes to get on Dean’s.  
   
“There’s always music in this crazy head,” Dean grinned, spinning him out and pulling him in.  
   
“It really is a beautiful head,” Cas grinned, struggling only slightly to stay in step as Dean pivoted and danced into the vacant dining room.  
   
“You see the beauty in the strangest things,” Dean smirked, nodding at the graffiti lined walls.  
   
Cas hummed, taking Dean’s lead, spinning him out and pulling him back in.  “There’s a story there.  Initials.  Reasons why those people were here instead of wherever they were supposed to be.  And there’s a story with you too.”  He led Dean through a sweeping dance across the dining room with a grin.  “I love being surrounded by stories.”  
   
“Ahh,” Dean sang back, following Cas’ steps easily.  “You want me for my stories, and I want you for your house.”  
   
Cas grinned at the ridiculous thought, pulling his phone out to play a song, never missing a step.    
   
“I got a lot of stories,” Dean grinned, his fingers crawling through Cas’ hair as he tucked his phone into his pocket while it played Black Velvet, giving him an even smoother step to his dance.  
   
Cas could only manage a grin.  He let the sultry song carry them around the room, staring at Dean as if it were the first time he was looking at him.  He had a new smile today.  This one was happy.  Tired, but happy.  Worn down with the weight of something old, yet relieved to be where he was.  Castiel knew he was a goner.  He was absolutely in love with this man.  His steps faltered and he pulled Dean even tighter.  He took a deep breath, the words of the song drifting around them.  He wanted to tell Dean he loved him, but surely it was too soon.  
   
“Black velvet in that little boy’s smile,” Dean sang softly.  “Black velvet in that slow, southern style.”  
   
“You are so beautiful,” Cas marveled.  
   
Dean looked away shyly.  
   
“You’re handsome, Dean,” Cas went on, still staring at him.  “But you are absolutely beautiful.”  
   
“Cas,” Dean blushed.  
   
The song ran out and Castiel’s feet quit moving.  The pair exchanged several loaded, fleeting (on Dean’s part) glances until Castiel put his arm around Dean.  With his other hand, he took him gently by the chin.  He pressed a kiss into Dean’s lips until he tilted his head and opened his mouth.  Kissing him deep, he backed Dean up several steps until he bumped into the wall.  As soon as Dean was pressed tight to the wall, Cas used both hands to feel Dean’s smooth skin under his shirt, getting exactly what he hoped for, Dean’s pelvis grinding into his.  He gave Dean little back in return in the pelvis zone but had him weak at the knees from the passionate kisses.  
   
A knock at the front door had them both gasping and pulling apart.  
   
“Shit,” Dean swore, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, wilting against the wall.  Cas, not having the luxury of the wall, staggered back a step with a hand to his mouth.  He leaned in, kissing Dean once more anyway, making him chuckle and push him away gently.  “Go answer the door!”  
   
Cas headed for the door, completely distracted.  He pulled it open.  
   
“Hi!  Figured I better start knocking before just barging in,” Gabe smirked, his quick eyes running all over Castiel’s frontage.  “Good call, I see.”  
   
“Come on in, Gabe.  What are you doing?” Cas let his brother in, closing the door snugly.    
   
“Dean-O!  How’s it going?” Gabe went into the dining room.  
   
“Good,” Dean said, giving him a nod as he pulled himself away from the wall.  
   
“I was just dropping off coffee.  I usually stop in here when I get off work on Saturdays.”  
   
Cas had already taken one.  Dean crossed the room to take the second one.  “Wow.  Thanks!  I gotta get to work.  I promised Crowley a quick revision on my last chapter.”  He turned to Cas.  “It won’t take me long though.”  
   
Cas gave him a soft grin, getting a brief kiss as he left the room.    
   
As his footsteps went up the staircase, Gabe walked slowly around the dining room, looking at the walls in disdain.  “Going with the urban look?”  
   
Castiel huffed a laugh.  “Yes.  I’m going to ride a skateboard and start a break-dancing club too.”  
   
Gabe laughed.  “I’d pay good money to see you spin on your head!”  
   
Cas chuckled, taking a long drink of coffee.  Perfect.  Just a touch better than his machine did.  
   
“So, Sam happened to mention this morning that Dean told him he’s moving in here.”  
   
Oh.  Yeah.  He had not even thought to tell Gabe.  Which, now that it was coming out like this, he felt kind of bad about it.  “Yes, he is.”  
   
Gabe gave him a look that conveyed quite clearly to please explain himself.  
   
Cas sighed, heading into the kitchen, Gabe following him.    
   
“I know it’s fast.”  
   
“Yeah,” Gabe agreed.  
   
“And I know we hardly know each other.”  
   
“That’s good, you are aware you are new at this.”  
   
Cas turned to his brother, a laugh almost slipping out as he thought about how unbelievably perfect Dean was.  “I’m in love.”  
   
Gabe shut his eyes, his head shaking in denial or difficulty processing.  “What?!”  
   
“I know,” Castiel admitted, taking another drink of his coffee.  He stared back at Gabe’s open-mouthed stare.  
   
“You love him.”  
   
Cas glanced at the hallway, seeing it empty.  “I haven’t told him yet.  I don’t want to scare him off.”  
   
“Scare him?”  Gabe ran his hands back through his hair as he paced in a circle in the messy kitchen that smelled like paint.  “Aren’t YOU scared?  You’ve never been like this Cassie!  You’re acting like Anna, falling into a crush like a twelve-year-old!”  
   
Cas shrugged, the words not bothering him a bit.  Mostly because he had already thought them all himself.  “I know it’s sudden...”  
   
Gabe stopped pacing, standing to face him.  “You sure about this?” He asked softly.  
   
Cas grinned.  He was sure with every fiber of his being.  “I’m sure.”  
   
Gabe shook his head in a daze.  “This is wild.”  
   
Cas took another drink.  “I suppose you think it’s a bad idea.”  
   
“Sudden, yes.  Possibly going to blow up in your face, yes.  But...hey, it’s your house.  And the guy obviously has it bad for you.  I don’t know Cassie.  It’s crazy.  But, what do I know?”  
   
They exchanged a grin, Gabe sitting in the windowsill.  “So, he moved in?”  
   
“He did.  All he had was a duffle bag.  It didn’t require much effort.”  
   
“Or planning.  He gonna start pitching in around here?”  
   
Cas hesitated before taking another drink.  Dean was broke.  And who knew what he had in South Dakota to take care of.  Honestly, he had not even considered it.  “We haven’t worked out the details yet.  But I’m satisfied and I’d prefer you did not bring it up around Dean.”  
   
Gabe nodded slowly.  “Got it.”  He stared out the window at the hedges that lined the yard.  “This is gonna either be forever or end in a heartbreak.”  
   
Castiel considered the thought.  “It’s worth finding out.  I’ve never loved anyone other than my family before.  It’s...pretty amazing.”  
   
Gabe grinned, somewhere between sad and accepting.    
   
“I would like to come over soon and get the rest of my things from your place.  My heat is running very well, and I think it’s time.”  
   
The sadness crept in for sure this time.  “Sure.”  
   
“Gabe, I’m going to be okay.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “Yeah.  You’re doing great!”  
   
Castiel recognized the forced happy tone, but let it go.  Gabe had been clinging to him for too long already.  Castiel’s need to have his own place and manage his own life was unmoving.  
   
Gabe stood up, glancing around.  “Painting again?”  
   
Cas sat his coffee down, crossing the kitchen.  “Gabe, I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.  You know that.”  
   
Gabe shrugged.  “Ah, you’ve been fine for years.”  
   
Cas closed his eyes, pulling Gabe into a hug.  Gabe hugged him back like he always did, much stronger than you expected.  “So proud of you, Cassie.”  
   
Cas sighed, kissing his brother on the side of the head.  “I’m proud of you too.”  
   
Gabe backed up, shrugging.  “Had to happen sooner or later, right?  I’m actually really glad you won’t be here alone.  Kinda makes me feel better.”  
   
“I’ll be sure to let Dean know you’re so thrilled.”  
   
“Dick,” Gabe laughed.  “So, what are you painting now?  Because it still isn’t the front rooms that scream ‘abandoned wasteland’.”  
   
Cas chuckled, getting his coffee again.  “I’m painting the pantry and a few walls in the kitchen.  Just a small project today.  I’m saving the front rooms for Thanksgiving break.”  
   
Gabe glanced into the pantry.  “Lookin’ good.”  
   
“Thanks.”  
   
“Need a hand?”  
   
“No but thank you.”  
   
“Well, I better go.  Sam should be up and done running and showering by now.  Tell Dean I said bye.”  
   
“Will do,” Cas grinned, patting Gabe on the shoulder, following him to the door.  
   
“Let’s do dinner soon.  We had a lot of fun Friday night.”  
   
“Us too.  I’ll talk to Dean about it.  Maybe we can pick a night a week and have dinner that night.”  
   
“That is...nauseously domestic of you,” Gabe snorted.  
   
Cas rolled his eyes.  
   
“I’ll host this week,” Gabe said in a flamboyant manner, cocking his hip out and flipping non-existent long hair over his shoulder.    
   
Cas sighed.  
   
“I’ll make little baby chickens and put them on little baby plates!”  
   
“I changed my mind,” Cas deadpanned.  
   
“With asparagus salad and a raspberry vinaigrette.”  
   
“Get out.”  Cas nudged him over the threshold of the door.  
   
“Foo-foo cheeses, and wine in those big glass things,” Gabe went on, slipping into some sort of French-Valley girl accent.  
   
“A decanter?” Cas supplied.  
   
“A decanter!  It’ll be posh!”  
   
“Goodbye Gabriel.”  Cas shut the door, only smiling after the door was shut.    
   
Gabe put both hands on the window, his silhouette showing how he leaned against the door, knocking on the glass.  “Something tall with multiple layers and made of fruity ganaches for dessertsies!”  
   
“Bye, Gabe,” Cas yelled, laughing.  
   
“Byeee!”  Gabe’s silhouette disappeared from the window as Cas headed up the steps.    
   
He stopped in the doorway to Dean’s writing room, leaning against the doorframe.  Dean was working his way through a chapter, scrolling slowly with his mouse.  Cas bit his lip.  Dean was wearing those glasses again.  The ones that screamed librarian.  And Cas was all over the dirty librarian look.    
   
He slipped back downstairs to finish the pantry.  Dean had things to do.  Cas would just have to wait.  He got his paintbrush and poured some in the dish he carried around with him for touch-ups.  The pantry’s nooks needed freehand painting.  No rolling in this little spot.  He grinned, wondering just what kind of things they would keep in the little bins and nooks in the pantry.  What would weekly dinners be like?  He stepped back, looking at the completed pantry.  “Well, one room is done.”  He smirked at his own situation.  But even the daunting amount of work needed on the house wasn’t getting him down.  
   
   
   
***************************************************************  
   
   
Sam swept the kitchen floor, his thoughts lingering on Dean and their talk last night.  
   
Gabe sighed, taking the broom from his hand, breaking his train of thought.  “You look like someone killed your puppy.”  
   
Sam winced.  “I hate that expression.  It’s so...gross and awful.”  
   
“And sad.  You have an awful sad look on your face.  What’s going on?”  
   
Sam sighed heavily.  “Dean called.  He’s going to South Dakota to take care of Bobby’s place.”  
   
Gabe sat down, leaning the broom against the wall near him.  “And?”  
   
Sam sighed again, shoving his hair behind his ears with an annoyed frown.  “We just talked last night about talking more.  About him talking to me more.  And now he’s going to Bobby’s with Crowley!  So...nothing changed.  He’s still relying on Crowley over me.”  
   
Gabe sat back with a frown.  “Huh.”  
   
“I really hoped things would change this time.  I thought maybe something got through to him.  But...I was wrong.  He’s...still team Crowley.”  
   
Gabe took his hand.  “You’ve been patient for a long time.  And if there is one thing I get, it’s invading a brother’s personal space.  I didn’t ask Cas if I could help him.  I didn’t ask if we were living in the same town.  I made it happen.  I pushed and attached myself when I had to.  Made him feel like it was his own idea to move here with me!” Gabe chuckled.  “The house was NOT my idea.  And I fought him on it several times.  But he just haaaaad to have it.  He bitches sometimes.  And his shrink says we’re too dependent on each other.  But fuck her.  She doesn’t know my life.  She didn’t hold her sibling’s insides together until the ambulance came.  She didn’t -” Gabe cut himself off with a little shake of his head as Sam gripped his hand back.    
   
“My point is, if Dean isn’t inviting you in, barge in anyway.  You’re his brother.  You have brother rights.”  
   
“Brother rights?” Sam grinned, trying to lighten the mood that had gripped Gabe so quickly.  
   
“It’s a thing,” Gabe grinned at him, forcing it as he shook off memories.  
   
Sam grinned.  “I like it.”  
   
“So, you wanna go along?  Go!  Just fucking show up and be there.  He needs it, Sam.  You aren’t misjudging anything.”  
   
Sam nodded, worry creeping in.  “Dean’s been...he accuses himself of being needy and weak.  But what he actually does is attach himself to someone who needs saved.  Amara was losing her business.  Drowning in the market.  She saw Dean as her ticket to fame and money.  He saw himself saving her career while building one of his own.  He’s had a few relationships, but none of them stick.  Even Bobby was someone he saved.  Lonely guy who lost his wife and never got to have kids of his own.  Dean filled the guy’s void for family by becoming his family.  But he saw it as leeching off the guy and causing him problems.  Dean is a complicated mess.  And who knows why he’s so wrapped up in Cas.  Maybe he thinks he can save him too.”  
   
Gabe crossed his arms, thinking.  “Sounds like it could be a little of both.  Dean likes to save people, no matter the cost to himself.  Cassie is more of a...storm in and take-charge person.”  
   
Sam thought about his quiet co-worker.  Cas was a firm, strict teacher.  But he cared very much that his students learned and succeeded.  Maybe Dean needed someone who would take charge.  Maybe he needed to do what Gabe said.  Barge in.  Dean would act like he hated it.  But maybe his brother needed the help.  He sighed again.  Dean definitely needed help.  And he wasn’t letting Crowley do all the helping this time.  
   
“I’m going with him.”  He stated it so suddenly and with such conviction that Gabe gave him an impressed nod.    
   
“Okay.”  
   
“I can help him.”  
   
“You can,” Gabe assured.  
   
“I am!”  Sam jumped up to go make a flight reservation.  He wasn’t asking anyone.  He was just doing it.  Why?  Because he was Sam fucking Winchester.  That’s why.  And he was taking charge for once.  
   
   
 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all Dean/Cas. Graphic depictions of violence (memories only)
> 
> Okay, so, pause on the feisty Sam for a bit. Dean and Cas are feeling feisty as well. 
> 
> Cas shares his past with Dean.

Chapter 11: Sunday Morning. Heaven to Hell.

 

Dean woke to bright sunlight pouring through every window in Cas’ bedroom. Sunday morning. It was pure bliss. Branches blew outside the windows. They had hung curtains on them last night. White and blue stripes and small floral print that looked so pretty in the house. Like the bare branches against the stark sky, his skin looked so dark against the white bedding. When wind blew, a whistle could be heard from the vent in the fascia outside the office window. When the wind blew hard enough, it whistled loud enough to hear downstairs. 

He couldn’t see Cas’ face, but he could feel his body behind his. Neither seemed to have moved during the night. And this seemed to be how they slept most every night. Dean grinned in the admission of loving being the small spoon. 

Dean traced a finger down Cas’ forearm, watching the hairs move. He grinned when he felt Cas’ leg lift, aligning behind his own.

Cas had said some things over the weekend that had Dean squirming. But he had been dead-on correct. Some of the words flashed through his mind. Domineering. Manhandle. Mine. And the sex they were having was so good.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his dick pulse. He ground his butt backwards, feeling the bulge of Castiel’s dick behind him. 

The memory of having sex in this bed gave him another surge. He ground backwards again, letting a breath out when Cas began to move behind him. His breathing changed. His hand lifted to stroke Dean’s chest, his thumb flicking a nipple.

“You woke me up,” Cas mumbled, grinding his hardening dick into Dean.

Dean grinned, butterflies erupting in his stomach. “Not sorry.”

Cas chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around Dean, stretching out behind him and groaning into his ear. He settled again, leaving small kisses along his shoulder. “I’m so glad it’s Sunday. I might have had to call off sick if it were Monday already.” 

“Yeah? You got plans for me?” Dean turned over, facing Castiel, shocked at how handsome he actually was. There was no hiding in the firelight. The morning sun lit up the room quite brightly. Cas’ eyes were bluer than the ocean. He grinned and Dean could feel himself grin back. He reached forward, running a thumb along the stubble of Cas’ jaw. “My God, you really are handsome.”

Castiel grinned. 

Dean leaned in slowly, kissing him lightly.

Cas grinned at the light pressure, leaning closer to chase the kiss. Dean pulled back with a little laugh. 

“Are you teasing me?” Cas asked.

Dean found himself pinned and kissing Cas with all the gusto he was craving. Cas sat up, straddling him.

Dean stared up at him, licking his lips. “You just gonna stare?” Thrill made Dean’s heart beat faster as Castiel’s eyes darkened and a menacing smile eased onto his lips.

“Are you being bratty?” Cas asked, lifting one leg to flip Dean onto his stomach and sit on him again.

Dean laughed, canting his butt up as much as he could, which wasn’t much. A groan slipped out as Cas leaned down over him. “I like it when you tease me,” Cas growled, kissing his neck.

Yes. Dean reveled in the weight over him. The firm hands and hot mouth. Every time he was with Cas, it made him feel exquisitely perfect. He wanted Cas. His bossy nature. The way his jaw set when he got stern. The way his hands were firm, yet caring. He wanted all that. He wanted fucked so hard he limped the next day. 

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. And the more he wanted it, the more he wanted Cas to earn it.

He grinned with dirty laugh as Cas made his way biting down Dean’s spine. “You seem to like me face down and ass up.”

Cas paused, his teeth mid-scrape. “You seem to like it as well.”

“Mm,” Dean grinned, shifting his ass.

“Maybe you wanna suggest another position,” Cas smirked, flipping Dean onto his back again, running his fingers into Dean’s hair with a possessive stroke. “Missionary?”

Dean blinked, grinning at his new position. “Nice, but no thanks.”

“Mm. I could take you up against a wall.”

“It’s too cold out there,” Dean smirked.

“Aw,” Cas mocked, “not what you want? Picky boy.”

“I am picky,” Dean challenged him, lightly nudging the head of Cas’ penis so it bobbed to the side and back.

Cas raised a brow with a look that made chills run rampant waves down his spine. “Do I need to keep those hands busy?” The question came out more like a threat, making Dean crave whatever lay behind it.

“I can think of some ways to keep them busy,” Dean grinned.

Cas gave him a haughty glare, still a challenging look with a hint of a grin. “Do tell.” 

Dean rocked his head back as Cas reached down to swirl two fingers around his hole. “I could text,” Dean teased breathlessly.

Cas’ two fingers plunged inside, making Dean gasp and groan. “You think you can TEXT with my fingers inside you?”

Dean’s eyes were shut, loving how his body reacted to Cas so easily. “I could...” he tried to tease back, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Well, someone’s feeling like a brat,” Cas sighed, spreading his fingers wide.

Dean pressed down into the prying fingers with a moan. “Can’t help it,” Dean grinned, already lost in Castiel’s touch.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Cas tisked. He withdrew his fingers, staring down at him.

Dean’s eyes popped open, his leg creeping up Cas’ side.

“Roll over.”

Challenge zinged in Dean, making him grind his ass and give Cas a naughty grin. “Make me.”

Castiel’s surprise only lasted a flashing second before his jaw set in determination and he was up on his knees, nose to nose with Dean. “Feisty,” he growled, kissing Dean hard and short before he had him stomach down on the sheets, his knees between Dean’s, spreading his legs quickly and bending his knees until his ass was up exactly where Cas wanted it. Shoulders, head, and arms flat on the bed, Dean moaned with want.

“Are you whining?” Cas asked, gruff with a tinge of amusement.

“Keep stretching me, Cas. I...”

Cas grinned wickedly. Dean couldn’t see it. But he knew it in his soul. He could feel it. He could feel just how pleased Cas was in the way his hands stroked his sides firm with little squeezes. The way he gripped his cheeks and parted him with sweeping strokes. His hands were heavy, firm, and so, so good.

“Please,” he gasped, wanting more than the firm strokes. Wanting the stretch. Wanting his mouth anywhere. As if Cas read his mind, he kissed the middle of his back.

“You are so ready,” Cas murmured.

“M ready! Cas...please...”

“So perfect,” Cas whispered, his hand freshly lubed, slid over his cheek, two fingers sliding in firmly again.

“Yyyyeah,” Dean sighed. 

“You like being face down in my bed?” Cas asked, shocking Dean, making his dick jump and his ass squeeze around his fingers. Cas giggled. “Your muscles tell me yes.”

“Yes,” Dean panted, spreading his knees a fraction to beg for more.

Cas scissored and slid his other hand up Dean’s side, sliding under him to stroke down his chest to squeeze his nipple. 

“Cas!”

“Yes?” He asked, as calm as could be.

“More, please!”

“Oh,” Cas cooed, swirling and adding another finger, “you really want more!”

Dean growled, fucking himself back onto Cas’ fingers while Cas kneaded the little nipple in his fingers. Cas flicked over his prostate, making Dean gasp and stutter in his grinding.

“I said I wanted those hands busy,” Cas said, moving his position. “I want them gripping the sheets.”

Dean clawed fistfuls of sheets, squeezing them.

Cas leaned down over him, letting his nipple go to plant a hand next to his face. “You still want more?” Cas growled into his ear, suddenly over every inch of his backside.

“Yes!”

Dean was lost. Cas pulled his fingers out and replaced them with one long, thick shove of his cock.

“More sheets,” Cas growled.

Dean scrambled to gather more, gasping to gather as much material as possible. “More!” Dean gasped.

Cas collapsed on top of Dean, fucking into him with a growing heat. “I’m just gonna take my time. I have all day to fuck you.”

Shocked by these statements, Dean surged with want again, craving every thrust against his prostate. Dean wanted to let go of the sheets and jack himself off. He was so ready! But Cas had told him to put his hands here! The thrusting continued with Cas heavy over top of him, one hand on the bed while the other roved from his nipple to his ass, along his skin firmly, to his shoulder.

“So good,” Cas moaned, sounding more and more wrecked.

“Cas! I...I wanna come, I’m gonna -“ he started to let go of the sheets.

“You better think twice before you let go of those sheets. I put you where I want you and I gave you something to hold onto,” Cas whispered menacingly.

“Oh fuck!” Dean moaned, gripping the sheet tight again, gasping as Cas’ thrusts became stronger and quicker. 

“You feel so good!” Cas almost shouted. “That ass! These legs! Dean!”

Dean gripped the sheets even harder, a long, whining moan he was sure didn’t belong to him, eked out of him. “Cas!”

“Mmmmm,” he groaned over him, panting into his ear. “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna fuck this tight hole!”

Dean’s mind spun. He wanted to come so bad! “Cas! Pleeeease. Now! Wanna!”

“You wanna come?” Cas panted, his thrusting hammered his prostate with precision that was making Dean see stars.

“Touch me!” Dean gasped, near to tears.

“You come all on your own!” Cas gasped, hammering over and over. His hand slid over to the back of Dean’s neck, pressing him into the bed harder.

The thought of their position, the demand Cas was giving him, the image of Cas holding him down, fucking him so hard...

He locked up, hunching tight as Cas pounded into him. “Come for me, Dean!”

Dean gasped. Gasped again. His mind short-circuited, his vision blurring out as his entire body erupted into a frantic convulsion of barely sane bliss. 

The fact that he was screaming out was somewhere in the fringe of his mind. The fact that Cas had come, his cum seeping into him and running down his thighs, all blurred on the fringe of the eruption of ecstasy. 

He was shaking. Exhausted. Snot running, tears damping his cheeks, sweat soaking his hair. He gasped again, ragged and barely attached to Earth’s surface.

“Cas?” He whispered, coughing.

Kisses were being pressed into his forehead. Those strong hands cradling him tight. His heartbeat still hammered in his ears and he floated still.

He gasped again. Elation and something akin to the free flight of a caged bird fluttered hard in his chest. 

His ears were ringing and he gasped for another breath as he heard Cas laugh.

He opened his eyes, staring up at Cas, who held him cradled into his chest.

“Holy shit,” Cas was saying, wiping his own sweaty forehead. “I’m not tying you up!” He laughed again, kissing Dean’s forehead.

Dean blinked into better awareness. “Do anything you want to me, Cas. You can spank me. Take me. I need you. I need this.” He stopped short, realizing he was babbling out loud. “It feels so good to let go. You take me away. I love you. This is what I wanted for so long. Handcuffs. Tie me up. I’ll do anything. For you. Plugs. You tell me, I’ll do it.” He swallowed, coughing again. He couldn’t shut up and his arms and legs still shook a little.

Cas hugged him tight. “Whatever you want, Dean.” He pulled the covers over them, cradling Dean into his arms, chest, and the blankets. “You’re perfect. Perfect for me.”

Dean trembled at the thought, his eyes closing again.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas whispered.

Dean gripped Cas’ wrist tight, pulling it to his mouth, kissing his hand. “That was so fucking crazy. So fucking good. So good.” His thoughts raced right into a pit of exhaustion that shut him down.

 

**********

 

Cas held Dean as tight as he dared. Kissed him as much as he wanted. Whispered how wonderful he was. And Dean soaked it all in like a sponge.

Dean had come untouched. He came so hard, so forcefully, that it was all Cas could do to restrain him. He had worried it was too much until Dean began spewing praise like a drunk man. In many ways, he was drunk. Flooded with endorphins that were rushing his system.

His initial thought was to act like he hadn’t heard Dean profess his love. He might not mean it. But when he said it again, paired with that wild look of need for comfort and calm, Cas could not resist. He loved Dean days ago. Saying it now meant nothing less. He meant it, even if Dean did not.

Cas suspected if he didn’t actually mean to say it, his intentions were raw enough to be nothing but truthful. He spent almost an hour just watching Dean sleep.

The morning was quiet. Neighborhood noises got louder as the morning waned, but Dean slept like a stone.

Semi-drunk in his own flooding endorphins, he did get up, leaving his lover asleep, buried in all the white fluff of the bed.

He made coffee and carried up cereal and milk. He sat all his goods on the nightstand, seeing Dean had not moved. He smoothed back Dean’s hair, kissing his head.

“Wake up, beautiful.”

Dean blinked, his muscles firming immediately. His head lifted with a look of confusion. “Is it...still Sunday?”

Cas chuckled, picking up one of the travel mugs he had prepared. “It’s just getting started.”

Dean’s head dropped back down. “I’m...gross.”

Cas sat his cup down, leaning forward to kiss Dean’s barely exposed cheek. “You are not gross. You are perfect. But I’ll be right back with some warm washcloths.”

Dean tucked his head away as Cas went to the bathroom. He mentally made note to get a dry sink. How romantic would it be to bring a hot pitcher of water and wash Dean clean. And it would look perfect in the old house.

Still grinning about his idea, he brought two washcloths and a towel out to Dean.

“I brought the washcloths,” he said gently, watching Dean roll over. His face was no longer complete bliss. A tinge of worry wrinkled his freckled brow.

He sat the cloths on the nightstand as Dean pulled the blankets back. “May I?” He asked.

Dean relaxed back. Watching as Cas used the first cloth that was lightly soapy. He rubbed soothing circles over his skin, wiping away their releases. “You are so beautiful,” Cas marveled.

“I am not,” Dean blushed, covering his eyes with his forearm. Dean tended to get shy after sex. Worry about how he had behaved. Insecure with his actions. He grasped Dean’s wrist, surprising him as he pulled his arm away from his face.

“You are beautiful.” 

Dean blinked up at him.

“Maybe,” he said quietly, thinking aloud as he gripped Dean’s chin lightly, “maybe I should institute some kind of punishment for speaking unkindly about the man I love.”

Dean’s jaw went slack in his hand, but he held his gaze.

“I said that,” Dean barely breathed.

“You did,” Cas assured him softly.

“I...I was...it was like being stoned...I...”

Cas smiled sadly, leaning in to kiss him gently then pull back. “I won’t hold you to it. It was all in the moment.”

“No,” Dean assured him, still wide-eyed. “I meant it. Cas. I feel like I’m losin’ it here. I’m so...” he licked his lips as Cas let go of his chin, watching him carefully. “I think I’m...” he laughed suddenly, looking down, then back up at Cas. “I’m really happy.”

Something burst in Cas’ chest. He cut off a laugh, trying not to let lose just how ecstatic he felt. He sat the cloth on the table with a squelch. “I am too,” he assured, leaning forward to kiss him again. “Dean.” He kissed him harder, crawling back into bed with him.

“I don’t want to scare you away,” Cas whispered, kissing Dean again. “Just tell me when you’re ready to hear all the wonderful things I have to say about you.”

Dean shied away, but he had a tired, shy grin rather than a pained look of guilt this time.

“Tell me about you,” Dean said quietly, turning back to him. In that moment, against the stark white bedding, Dean’s eyes were green as grass. 

He grinned, beginning to wipe him clean again. “I went to college in Chicago.”

“Why Chicago?” Dean asked, sighing as the warm cloth wiped over his lower abdomen.

“Because Gabriel went to stay with our cousin Balthazar. The pair were learning how to bake. They had a plan to open a bakery in Chicago.” Cas nudged him gently to his stomach to clean him from behind. “Balthazar’s family has a good bit of money, unlike ours.”

Dean hissed at his sensitive entrance. Cas stopped to put medicine there to relieve the abused skin.

“I lived with Gabe, Balthazar, and his parents while I went to college. It was quiet. The only parties I went to were the ones Gabe drug me to.”

“Not a partier?” Dean asked, turning back over with a sigh, Cas handing him his coffee again as he got comfortable.

“Not at all.” Cas took all the wash cloths and towels to the bathroom, washing his hands. “Had my first serious relationship there.”

Dean watched him carefully as Cas set about pouring them bowls of cereal. “We should keep cereal up here. And milk,” Dean grinned. “I kinda like this.”

Cas grinned at him, “We should.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, taking the breakfast as he leaned back against the headboard. “So, tell me about boyfriend number one.”

Cas poured his own bowl. “Mick. He was a friend of Balthazar’s from England. We dated for six months before he decided he was heading back to England and broke up with me.”

Dean nodded, shoving another overloaded spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Numba two?”

Cas sat on the bed across from him. “Number two was Ishim. We knew each other from school. Started dating a few weeks after Mick left. We were together for almost a year.”

“Wow,” Dean managed, looking at him a little closer. “What happened?”

Cas chewed quietly a moment. “He left. Gabe never got along with him. Honestly, I was relieved when we were through.”

“He break your heart?”

“Hardly. I did a lot of research after Ishim and I broke up. I knew our relationship was severely lacking. I believe we were incompatible because we were both so dominant. That, and he was a dick in general.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “So, who broke your heart? Because I know the look, Cas. And you have it. That look like the fairy tale bubble was broken for you. If those were your most serious relationships...” he shrugged, “what broke your heart?”

Cas frowned in thought. “I really was fairly unaffected by both break-ups.” He stirred the cereal around in thought. No one had broken his heart. But he certainly didn’t hold his breath for a fairy tale to sweep him off his feet. “Oh.”

Dean sat his empty bowl on the nightstand, watching him.

Castiel swallowed, the cereal suddenly settling like cement. “Anna. Anna broke my heart.”

“Anna?” Dean asked. “Your sister?”

Cas nodded, staring down at the flakes and milk. “Seeing her go from your typical kid. Fun. Playful.” He stared out the window. “When we were robbed. The men who attacked us meant to kill us. Anna was...” he hated getting into this story, but it was Dean. They couldn’t really move forward if he didn’t understand where he had come from. 

He slipped into the automatic version, which was easier to deliver than the gory memories. “She was stabbed three times. She lost her spleen and has damage to her spinal cord. She’s in a wheelchair now. Forever. Nothing will bring back what she lost that night. So...fairy tale broken.”

Dean sat forward with the softest look. “I’m so sorry.” He reached forward, gripping his forearm to connect with him. “I knew you guys were part of a home invasion and it left Gabe really paranoid that something would happen to you. I didn’t know any more.”

Cas nodded. His cold, indifference at war with the notion to melt into Dean’s touch. His past was frustrating and tiresome. It felt like luggage he wore at all times. A shadow that lurked behind him everywhere he went. Telling people usually brought on a pity, with a firm assurance of ‘I’m sure the police got all the men. You’re just paranoid’. But Dean had proven different in so many ways. Maybe this would be one more. He sighed, slouching.

“Gabe was very much affected by the entire ordeal. He has so much guilt for not being there. He blames himself because I was looking for him when the attacker got me. Then Anna tried to help me. So, he feels quite responsible for both of our injuries.”

Dean looked haunted by the thought. “He was just a kid too. But I get it. It’s a brother thing.”

Cas nodded. “Anna was so traumatized by the ordeal. She was only eight. She didn’t speak for an entire year. She would not do therapy. She would not play. She was completely attached to our mother. She was home schooled until middle school. She was extremely fearful.” Cas took a deep breath, letting his emotion bleed through. “It was horrible. We were all in therapy for years. Gabe and I fared better than Mom and Anna. But we all eventually moved on with our lives.” He glanced to the window again. “For the most part anyway.” His eyes drifted back to Dean. He was sitting forward, listening carefully. His thumb swept gently back and forth lovingly. Cas licked his dry lips, going on. “Gabe and I stay close. In fact, this house is the first time I’ve ever lived alone. Honestly, I’m not sure if it was Gabe holding me back or me too afraid to leave. Either way, I’m thirty with my first place. It’s kinda sad.”

Dean huffed. “At least you didn’t get yours taken.”

Cas had to concede there. He nodded, but went on. “True. My Mom lives at Anna’s house. She built a house so it was completely wheelchair accessible. It’s beautiful. And I’m glad neither of them are alone. But. I’m sure things would not have turned out this way had we never been robbed.”

“Wish I could fix it. Go back in time. Kills those bastards.”

Cas had to agree.

“Sam said you still think one of them is out there.” Dean’s hand slid down Cas’ arm, taking his hand loosely.

“The cops say no. I don’t know. It’s been so long.” His temptation to dig up the old memories was quickly slammed shut by the wall that held them back. “Anna’s the only other person who believes that a third intruder was in the house.”

“Hey,” Dean caught his cheek in light touch. “I believe you. And I’ll be extra safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Cas’ chest filled to the bursting. “I don’t know...the last time I had an intruder, I fell in love with him.”

Dean’s seriousness fractured with a quick wash of shock, denial, ending in a laugh. “Well, I hope he’s hot and likes threesomes. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere.”

Castiel laughed, leaned in and kissed Dean, pulling back still laughing. “Nice.”

Dean grinned wide, taking Cas’ coffee cup to put on the table. He turned back, bowling Cas back onto his back, Dean mounting over top of him, kissing him. 

Dean pulled up, staring down at him with freckles so sweetly scattered and his green eyes twinkling. “What are you doing to me? I was completely content to be a grouchy old man. You are messing up all my plans to be old and alone.”

Cas ran his hands up Dean’s arms, grinning up at him with complete adoration.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna say this...but...”. Dean wiped a hand down his face, blushing crimson. “I am totally, completely, stupidly in love with you.”

Cas’ breath caught. Something about the rawness of this version compared to his cries amidst oversensitzed pleasure solidified any questions in his mind. “I, I love you too.”

“You’re so crazy,” Dean swore, a breathless laugh on his lips.

“Me?” Cas gasped, flabbergasted. “You have financial issues. There could possibly be someone out there to get me! That’s...real dedication to stay with someone, knowing they’re a paranoid wreck half the time.”

Dean’s grin softened. “You aren’t a wreck any of the time. You handled yourself just fine when I broke in. And who could blame you for being extra cautious. Gabe either.” Dean’s eyes dropped to Castiel’s torso, his thumb brushing over one of the patches of skin that always felt so strange when touched. His thumb slid over the slim indent of a white scar. “Is that where these came from?”

Cas rubbed his own hand over the scar, lacing his fingers with Dean’s. “Yeah.”

“So,” Dean said softly, “you hid Anna?”

Cas took a deep breath. “I woke up to the sound of thumping and my mother screaming. I jumped out of bed, seeing Gabe wasn’t in his bed. I had no idea what was happening. I ran to the stairs, seeing my mom laying in the living room bleeding. The two men that broke in were unhooking our computer to steal it. I ran back up the steps and got Anna. I hid her in hall closet and went for Gabe. I figured he was under his bed or in our closet. I ran out of our room, searching upstairs for him. One of them men saw me. When he yelled, a third man that I hadn’t noticed came out of my mom’s room and just...stabbed me.” Visions of blue eyes and blonde hair staring at him made him shiver. “He was a teenager. Probably fifteen or sixteen.” Cas swallowed, feeling the wall he had staggered into all those years ago. His ten year old self slide down and crumple onto the floor in the hall. He didn’t even cry. It was all so shocking. He blinked rapidly, trying not to let himself be totally pulled into the night. “He yelled to the others that he got me. They were yelling back, but...I don’t remember what they said. Then he knelt down next to me, pulled my pajama shirt up, staring at the stab wound. I was so...shocked! I started screaming and he stabbed me again, twisting the knife. And watching.” Cas shivered again, gripping Dean’s hand tighter. “He pulled the knife out and took off. I was so glad.” His breath caught, seeing only the ceiling of their hallway where he had laid, the blood on his hands and the wall. “I was so glad he left. But, but actually, Anna had come out and screamed at him. He jumped up and stabbed her as she ran away. They left. They left us all there. Gabe...”. He blinked rapidly, pulling in a shaky breath. 

Visions of the night cleared. Dean was crying.

Silent tears slid down his cheeks. Cas sucked in another sudden breath, his hands coming back to life.

“But they caught him? He’s in jail?” Dean whispered.

Cas shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think he had a twin. I can’t understand how he got upstairs so suddenly. But I saw him in the courtroom. His eyes were different. Not as cold. One of them got away. But the police swear there were only two. And his prints were found in the living room and bloody prints in the hallway.”

Dean wiped his cheeks dry, looking determined. He laid down on Cas. His full weight a solid, affirming comfort.

“I’ll kill ‘im,” Dean swore.

Castiel stroke his back, breathing him in. He believed him. And there it was. Dean’s reaction was like no other. Fierce loyalty.

Several minutes later, Dean rolled off of him, laying curled around him.

“I can’t wait to meet Anna.”

Cas smirked at the black surface above them. “She says you’re hot.”

Dean chuckled. Brat.

“She said I better snatch you up.”

“You certainly did,” Dean grinned. “I’ve never been so snatched.”

Cas chuckled back, rolling over to hold him.

There was nothing like a lazy Sunday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter has filled in some of the blanks for why Cas is the way he is and why Gabe is the way he is. Now you see why it truly was amazing that Dean faired as well as he did when he broke into Castiel’s house :)
> 
> Hope you are all enjoying! Thanks so much for reading!!!!! <3


	12. Bobby’s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting a day early due to the finale of Supernatural season 14 on Thursday. I figured we all might need a mental break, since they really love to leave us hanging. Here’s to hoping season 14 ends smoothly so we can sail into 15 with high hopes! That’s possible...right?
> 
> Dean takes his trip to Bobby’s.  
> Have you noticed we have a major character missing from this tale? Clues: shiny, black exterior, a little squeaky in some hinges... Yeah! Where the hell is Baby????

Chapter 12: Bobby’s

 

“Dean?” Cas called from the front door. It was Tuesday morning and Cas was getting ready to leave for work while Dean and Crowley were getting ready to leave for the airport.

“Yeah?” Dean called back, coming into the hall from the kitchen.

“Sam is here.” Cas turned to him with a questioning look. “He has luggage.”

Dean’s stomach tightened with anxiety. He was already stressing about flying in a few hours. What did Sam want?

Cas opened the door. “Morning Sam.”

“Morning, Cas!” Sam grinned. “Hey I won’t be at work the rest of the week. I’m going with Dean.”

Dean came down the short hall to the foyer. “You’re doing what?”

“Coming along,” Sam grinned, sitting his suitcase against the wall.

Dean’s mind scrambled for sense. “Why? I didn’t ask you to.”

“Oh,” Sam chuckled sarcastically, “I waited for an invite. Ya know, the standard hey man, I’m dealing with some tough shit. Care to help me out? Brother? But, my invite must have gotten lost so. Here I am. Inviting myself.”

Dean felt guilt surge up. 

Shit.

“Sam, I don’t have a ticket for you.”

“I already got one. Thanks.” Sam gave him bitchface 12 and headed for the kitchen, pushing past him. “Got any coffee?”

Cas gave him an oh-you’re-in-the-dog-house-honey look.

“What the fuck?” Dean muttered under his breath. He turned back into the kitchen, getting Sam a cup of coffee.

He sat it down on the counter, which was crowded with sanding and painting tools. 

“Thanks. You shoulda told me.” Sam blurted. His angry glare breaking through. 

“You really bought a plane ticket?” Dean asked in some shock.

“32C. Aisle seat next to you and Crowley.”

Dean pulled back in surprise. “I didn’t think you would want to come,” Dean explained, hating that he had hurt his brother’s feelings. 

“If you had actually asked me,” Sam said slow and deliberate, “I would have told you that, yes, Dean, I would love to come support you.”

Dean stared at his brother, back to trying to make sense of his words. “Okay! So come along then!”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean groaned. “Sorry. Sam. Figured I could skip making myself look like an ass.”

“Well, you can’t,” Sam cut him off. He sat in the windowsill with a cocky air Dean was definitely not used to. The image of Gabe sitting there with the same look flashed through his mind. “Gabe put you up to this.”

“No, he did not. I’m your brother!” Sam’s voice climbed angrily. “I’m the one you’re supposed to call. Not Crowley.”

Dean finally understood completely. Shit. He had done it again. “I didn’t mean to...”. He wiped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”

Sam shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. “It’s fine. I just invited myself. Because I’m a fucking Winchester.”

“Oh, that is so Gabriel,” Dean chortled. 

“Dean, I have to go,” Cas said gently from the doorway. 

Dean’s shoulders slouched. He dreaded the thought of being separated from Cas already. He scolded himself for being so needy, but Cas had completely gotten under his skin. 

He crossed the kitchen, eating up the vision of Cas in his jeans, dress shirt, tie, and blazer. “Damn. I am so hot for teacher.”

“Gross!” Sam yelled.

Dean’s heated look flattened. “He’s been hangin’ out with Gabe too much.”

“I do see some new similarities.” Cas turned to Sam. “I’m glad you’re going, Sam. But don’t be too hard on Dean.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine.”

Cas turned back to Dean as Dean tugged him out of the kitchen, walking him to the door. Once at the front door, Dean turned Cas to hug him. 

He sighed at the strength in the man’s arms, soaking it in to store it up for when he would need it. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Cas pulled back enough to kiss him. “I’m gonna miss you too. It’ll only be a few days.”

“I know,” Dean whispered, kissing him again.

Only a moment later, Cas stepped back with a grin. Damn, he was so handsome. “Be nice to Sam.”

Dean huffed. “I will be.”

“I love you.”

It shocked Dean every time he heard it. He broke out into a wistful grin. “I love you too.”

Cas kissed him one more time and left for work. 

Dean watched him traverse the uneven sidewalk and stubborn gate with more grace than any man had a right to. He grinned as Cas glanced back at the house as he walked to work.

“Did I hear you say the L word?”

Dean jumped, glaring at his brother. “What? Lesbian? No. I did not accuse Cas of being a lesbian.”

Sam stared at him. “You told him you love him!”

Dean groaned loudly. “Are you here JUST to screw with me? Because you know I’m a freaking wreck already, right?”

Sam huffed a laugh. “No, actually...no. Sorry.”

Dean paced back into the kitchen. “It’s fine. Sorry I didn’t invite you.”

“But seriously, you guys are throwing the L word around? I mean...dude. What is going on?”

Dean sat at the table, pushing a can of paint aside. “I love him.” He listened, but Sam said nothing, choosing instead to laugh and sigh at him.

They both turned when Crowley walked into the kitchen. “Hello, boys.”

“Hey,” Sam chuckled, still amused by Dean for some reason.

Crowley put his hand on Dean’s shoulder with a squeeze. “That last chapter looks great.”

Dean nodded. “Good. I’m most of the way through the next chapter.”

Crowley patted his back with a smirking grin. “Well done.”

“Are we ready then?” Sam asked, getting to his feet again.

Dean frowned. “Did you get flight details from Crowley?” He turned to his editor. “Are you in on this?”

“Samuel can be quite persuasive,” Crowley admitted.

Dean sighed. “Free coffee?”

“Any time I’m in town,” Crowley grinned wide.

“You coulda said something,” Dean groused at his brother.

“Likewise, jerk.” Sam headed to the door.

Dean sighed again. Great. This whole fucking trip was gonna be just great.

 

**************************************************************

 

Sam blew out a breath, he had forgotten how stressful it could be to fly with Dean. Unmedicated and sober.

He had managed to keep his brother distracted for half an hour with pictures in his phone of things he and Gabe had done the past several months. 

Now that they were In Sioux Falls, Dean was equally as stressed. If you didn’t know Dean, you might not notice the tiny tells that gave him away. But Sam could read him like a book. The clench of his jaw, the way he tipped his head back, eyeing for an escape route, the way he fiddled with anything he could get his hands on. It was all there, like warning signs. For Sam’s part, all he could do was take a deep breath for him, give him an encouraging grin, and hell, he had even patted his back as they walked toward the restaurant. 

They went into The Roadhouse, a restaurant owned by Ellen. Her daughter, Jo, worked there as well. Once upon a time, Jo and Dean were close friends. Now they didn’t speak. As they stepped inside, Sam breathed in the heavy smells of burger, beer, onion, and bourbon. There should be candles made to smell like this. The place was dimly lit and not too crowded.

“Well, damn.”

Sam, like Dean, froze in his tracks. “Ellen!” He greeted when Dean continued to be frozen in place and Crowley merely stared back.

“Sam,” she semi-grinned. “Been a while.”

“Yeah, well...it’s been...yeah.” Sam tried to grin but stammered at the sharp look she gave Dean.

“What are you doing here, Winchester.” She glared fully at Dean this time.

Dean nodded, looking ready to bolt. Or puke.

“You wanted to meet,” Crowley cut in, none too friendly. “Don’t nag me on the phone about needing to meet then act like a prat the moment you see him.”

Sam’s eyes grew large as Ellen glared at Crowley. 

“Did you just call me a prat?” Ellen growled.

Crowley grinned with an ounce of boredom. “Never mind. We’ll contact your lawyer.”

Crowley turned, motioning Dean and him to turn around and leave when Jo came skirting around a few tables.

“Stop. Dean...stay. We need to talk.” Jo gave Dean and Crowley a glare only a Harvelle can wrangle, and turned to Sam. “Hi, Sam.”

“Hi, Jo,” Sam answered tightly. Damn. No wonder Dean didn’t want to come here. The hostility was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Let’s go talk,” Dean said just as tightly, eyes still darting for exit strategies.

“I’m takin’ the rest of the night, Mom,” Jo said curtly, getting a less than thrilled look from her mother.

“I’ll be back in a few. I’ll just put Rufus in charge,” Ellen said.

“Come on,” Jo called, walking toward the back. Dean followed her easily, so Sam and Crowley did the same.

They filed into what was probably a break room. There was a table with four chairs at it, two couches, and mini kitchen area, and a TV that was not turned on.

They all took a seat at the table.

“You brought your body guard?” Jo asked, opening a beer to take a drink.

“Crowley is my editor, not my body guard,” Dean mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

Jo glanced around the table with an amused smirk. “No one is writing, so he can leave.”

“He’s my friend,” Dean said more sharply, meeting her eyes fully. “Crowley said you wanted to talk. So talk.”

Jo’s smirk sunk to less amused. “We need to talk about Bobby’s place. Are you going to sell me your half?”

Dean sat back, holding her gaze. “No. I’m keepin’ it.”

She shook her head slowly in irritation. “Heard you lost your own house.”

Even though Jo had been around for every Christmas except the last one, and Dean had said the two didn’t speak anymore, it was still shocking to see her and Ellen so belligerent with Dean. He tried to stem his irritation.

“Yeah, I lost it.” Dean stared at the worn table bitterly.

“Now you wanna hang onto Bobby’s until you ruin that too?” Jo scoffed.

“That’s enough,” Sam snapped at the same time Crowley blurted, “that’s it, we’re leaving.”

Jo sat back, holding both hands up. “Alright. Sorry.”

Dean stared at her coldly. “It’s fine,” he said in a flat voice. “You can hate me all you want Jo. Just like Ellen does. But I didn’t kill Ash and I didn’t have anything to do with what he was doing that night.”

Jo looked away, crossing her arms over her chest, biting back tears. “You said you’d watch out for him.”

Dean closed his eyes, sighing. “I know. And I’ll never forgive myself for not keeping a better eye on him. You can hate me all you want, Jo.”

Sam stared at the pair in shock. “Wait a minute,” Sam butt in. “I was there when Ash left for the tour with Dean. He told me he’d keep an eye on Dean! So, should I be pissed at him for not keeping up his end of the deal?”

Jo scoffed harshly. “Lotta good it’ll do ya to be mad at a dead guy.”

“No, let’s beat up the living one until he’s gone too, right?” Sam bit back bitterly.

“Alright class,” Crowley said smoothly, pinning Jo and Sam with a look that demanded silence out of them.

Sam suddenly wondered just how bad things had been here. “Have you been blaming Dean for Ash’s death all this time?”

Jo stared at him sharply. 

“It’s fine, Sam,” Dean said, his voice straining. “I’ll be right back,” he added, getting up and heading for a bathroom.

Sam leaned onto his elbows. “If Dean blames himself, that’s one thing. He always takes the blame for things. But if you and your mom are piling on more guilt, then you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“If the shoe fits,” Jo said stubbornly.

“That’s it,” Sam spat, standing up with a loud scrape of his chair. “We’re leaving right now.”

Crowley arched an eyebrow and Jo stood up just as abruptly.

“JoAnna Beth,” Ellen warned, coming into the room, getting an annoyed glare from the tiny blonde.

“They can’t come in here and act like nothing is wrong.” Jo crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Sam now.

“All that boy has ever done,” Crowley snapped, getting to his feet, “was act as though he had done something wrong. And we all know the truth. Dean should not have been partying as hard as he was. Ash should not have been partying as hard as he was. Neither should have been -“

“We get it,” Ellen said, closing her eyes. “And you’re right. Look, I have been wanting to tell Dean just that for some time. And I couldn’t get ahold of him.”

“No damn wonder,” Sam went on. “You lit into him the second he got here.”

“Here’s a thought, how about we all sit and...try not to insult each other,” Crowley offered, sitting.

One by one, they all sat except Sam. Just as he was about to go check on Dean, he came into the room.

Dean sighed heavily, sitting at the table. Jo wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye, still sitting with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Dean,” Ellen began quietly with obvious patience in her voice, “we heard you left town for good. Is that true?”

“Yeah. I’m moving to Lawrence with Sam.” Dean answered automatically with little emotion.

Seeing there was going to be an attempted conversation, Sam sat down.

“You gotta know that ya hurt Jo’s feelings real bad when ya just up and left,” Ellen said quietly.

“Did not,” Jo scoffed.

“Jo hasn’t spoken to me without cussing me out in over a year Ellen,” Dean said. 

“That’s bullshit,” Jo muttered.

Dean gave Ellen a see-what-I-mean smirk.

Ellen gave her daughter a gentler look. “Jo, you gotta move on. Dean didn’t kill Ash any more than you or I did. He overdosed and that’s all there is to it. It’s a brutal pill to swallow. But it’s the truth.”

Jo swatted a tear away.

Dean sat there stoically. Sam was already preparing himself for Dean to say something stupid like, ‘yes, blame me’ or ‘yes, it was my fault’, but it did not come. He sighed with some relief as Dean just gave Ellen a small nod of thanks. 

“My nephew was a lot of things,” Ellen snorted softly, “a hard partier was one of them.” She cleared her throat, her mouth twisting in a shaky strain as tears made her eyes red. “I’m sorry we were so hard on you, Dean. You were hurting too. It just...wasn’t until you left that I really saw it.”

Jo stared at her mom in some shock.

Dean mimicked her twisting mouth, struggling to stay in control. “I shoulda done better.”

“Dean,” Sam warned immediately.

“You should have,” Ellen said shakily. “And Ash shoulda done better too. But Dean, Ash was a grown man. Ultimately his actions caught up to him. Things won’t be the same around here without him. But that don’t mean we get to beat you up for it.”

Jo looked more defeated than angry now. Dean just slumped in his seat, staring down at the table, listening.

Crowley cleared his throat as he reached over, rubbing Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you, Ellen. It took a lot for Dean to come here again.”

Dean frowned.

Ellen watched him, nodding. She tilted her head toward Dean, giving Jo a prodding look.

Jo winced and pulled back. 

“Why didn’t you return my calls?” Jo threw out harshly.

Dean’s head jerked up. “I thought our last conversation pretty much said it all.”

Jo bit her lip, looking down. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes you did.” Dean said coldly, staring at her with empty defeat. “And so did I. I wish it would have been me, Jo. Ash deserved better.”

The statement filled Sam with a cold fear. Just when had his brother wished he were dead? He knew Dean had struggled, drank, dealt with situational depression with Ash and then Bobby. Even events from business with Amara had him pretty depressed and down on himself. And the fact that Jo had ever said such a thing had him angrier than he had ever felt before.

“Really,” Crowley said in an icy tone that had everyone’s attention. “We’re done here.” Crowley stood, Sam following him.

Dean stayed in his seat, looking too defeated to move. “I came here to finish this. You want Bobby’s house, you can have it. I’m just going to pick up a few things and I’ll do what needs done with your lawyer. Then you won’t see me again.” Dean stood up.

“No,” Ellen assured, her arm darting across the table to grab Dean’s forearm. “How we treated you was wrong, Dean. We were hurting and angry and you...were...” her voice faded to a broken whisper, “easy to blame.” She swiped a tear off her cheek and squeezed Dean’s arm tighter. “I’m sorry for how we treated you. You are welcome here. And Bobby meant a lot to all of us.” She let go of his arm, sitting back. “He wanted you and Jo to share his place. He wanted the two of you to get along. He hated that Jo and I blamed you for Ash. Believe me, he tore my head off about it a few times.” She swiped another tear away. “Wish I woulda listened to him a lot sooner.”

Jo swiped tears off her own cheeks. “The last time I talked to Bobby he told me I was wrong for holding a stupid grudge.” She looked away, dissolving into tears. “It was easier to be mad at you than deal with losing Ash.”

Dean was on his feet now and around the table. He hugged her tight. 

A look of exhausted relief set into Ellen’s face as she stood. “How ‘bout we go have a drink?” She asked Sam and Crowley.

Crowley studied Ellen, Jo, and Dean for a few seconds before turning to Ellen with a polite grin. “Shall we?”

Jo did seem to be breaking down. And Dean seemed to be handling it okay. He was torn between giving them a private moment and protecting his brother from any more of her shitty comments.

As Jo began to apologize, Sam decided it would be okay to leave the pair. He followed Crowley and Ellen out to the bar. He slumped on the stool, leaning onto the bar.

“What can I get you?” Ellen asked.

“Beer. Anything on tap,” Sam managed, feeling wiped out.

“Scotch,” Crowley sighed.

“I feel like a total dick for giving him a hard time this morning,” Sam admitted. “He had to ride on a plane AND walk into that.”

Crowley gave him a knowing nod.

Ellen brought their drinks, staying in front of them with a worried look. “I’m sure you both think we’re mean as smacked vipers. Can’t say I blame you.”

Sam could hardly just give her or Jo a pass but the apology was appreciated. He nodded his understanding without actually forgiving anything.

Crowley sat his glass on the bar. “You know what I miss?”

“What?” Sam asked. 

“Coffee at that little shop of Gabriel’s,” Crowley said wistfully with a laugh.

“Really?” Sam had to laugh a little. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Crowley corrected. “I’d rather he did not know what a fan I am.”

Sam shook his head, taking another drink. “I’m telling him.”

Crowley turned his drink slowly in a circle. “Is Jo going to be able to work with him or not?”

Ellen straightened up a bit. “Yeah. I think so. Bobby left me a letter. He really wanted Jo and Dean to run his place together. Old goat. He always did get his way in the end.” She took a drink with a sad smile.

Sam and Crowley grinned, each with their own memory of Bobby and how he had charmed them.

“How’s he doing?” Ellen asked.

Sam looked up, seeing she was watching him. “Dean? He’s doing good. Better, anyway. He’s got a boyfriend and -“

“A boyfriend?” Ellen’s face lit up. “That’s good!”

“Yeah. He’s, uh, moving quick,” Sam admitted worriedly. 

“He don’t have any other speed,” Ellen laughed. “Full speed or full stop. That boy,” she shook her head, taking another drink. “Bobby loved that boy. Said he was the son he never had.”

Sam grinned, fighting off tears. It was refreshing to be around so many people who knew Dean so well.

“This one’s a might different,” Crowley added. “This one just might last ‘til the end.”

Ellen’s grin sobered as she stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“He is. Very.” Crowley grinned. “I always thought marriage would suit him.”

“Marriage!” Ellen and Sam yelled.

Crowley laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? The two of them are the real deal! Now, you and Gabriel,” Crowley shook his head, “the jury is still out on that one.”

Sam scoffed. “You don’t know any of that!”

Crowley exchanged a knowing look with Ellen.

“He’s teasing you,” Ellen smirked.

“That’s right, Moose. Just yanking your chain. But Dean and Cas, that I was not joking about.”

“Way too soon to call that,” Sam insisted.

“They’re in love!” Crowley held both hands out like it was as simple as that.

“Wait, Dean Winchester said the L word?” Ellen asked, all shock this time.

“Oh yeah, he moved in with the guy! He’s so in love his pupils are heart shaped!”

“I’ll be damned,” Ellen grinned. She stared off for a moment before nodding her head. “Good for him.”

“Yeah, but...” Sam still found the marriage word quite shocking. If anyone had their life together and got married, it was him, not Dean!

“So, how’ve you been, Sam?” Ellen asked.

“Good! Real good,” Sam said quickly. “I’ve been seeing someone too. Actually, Dean’s boyfriend and mine are brothers.” He waited for the reaction. Was it weird to date brothers?

“Well, that makes family get-togethers easy,” Ellen grinned. “That’s real good, Sammy.” Ellen added, patting his arm. “Sorry we haven’t kept in touch too. I mean ta fix that.”

Sam grinned. The knot in his gut began to relax. He hoped Ellen was sincere. He didn’t know her that well, but everything he knew about her told him she said what she meant and meant what she said.

 

************************************************************

 

Dean woke the next morning with a heavy heart and puffy eyes. He and Jo had gone round and round about Ash, their own friendship, Bobby, and Bobby’s salvage yard. They had argued, cried, hugged, and laughed. He felt hungover and exhausted already. Yet, his heart was lighter. So, it was possible that the entire dramatic chick-flick/chick drama was worth it. A lot had been said.

His phone vibrated short on the hardwood floor next to the couch he was sleeping on. He blinked his eyes a few times, waking more fully. 

Plaid curtains hung over the windows of the living room with whitewashed walls and a collection of photos hung on the wall. He had taken one of them. And he was in one of them. He grinned softly. He was in Jo’s living room. Her apartment was small but very cutely decorated. He pushed the blanket off of him, sitting up to rub his face and yawn.

He picked up his phone, reading a sweet morning text from Cas. His heart squeezed a little. Rather than text back, he called.

“Good morning,” Cas answered so sweetly that Dean could have melted into a puddle.

“God I miss you,” Dean closed his eyes, laying back down.

“I miss you too. Terribly. Please tell me you aren’t moving back there. I already looked and the closest teaching job is a two hour drive.”

Dean chuckled, loving that Cas was even entertaining the thought. “No, no. I’m not moving back here.” He sighed wistfully. “I love you.”

“I love you more. How is it going?”

Dean sat up again. “Well...I got to Ellen’s bar and shit pretty much hit the fan as soon as I walked in.”

“Oh, Dean,” Cas said worriedly.

“I was glad Sam and Crowley were there. I’m pretty sure if they hadn’t been, that Jo and I woulda just argued and I woulda left. But...that didn’t happen. Ellen apologized. I apologized. Jo and I apologized. It was...I’m friggin’ exhausted.”

“You sound pretty good though,” Cas said tentatively.

“Yeah, well, Jo and I spent the entire evening together talking about old times. Talking about Bobby and what to do about his place.”

“That’s so good, Dean!” Cas said excitedly. Dean grinned, picturing him smiling as he walked around getting his coffee ready for work. Hair probably messy and tie most likely undone.

“You wearin’ the blue tie today?” Dean asked, missing him so much.

Cas chuckled. “I’m wearing my black one.”

Dean pouted.

Cas laughed. “You want me to go put my blue one on?”

“I love that blue tie. It makes your eyes so blue. It makes me...” he groaned, getting to his feet. “Damn. I miss you.”

“I can’t believe I’m climbing two sets of stairs just to change ties that you won’t even see.”

Dean grinned, heading into the bathroom to pee. “You spoil me.”

Cas chuckled again. “When you get home, I’ll show you spoiling.”

Dean grinned hard. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Surprises are good for you,” Cas sighed. “But I’m thinking cuffs might be involved. I don’t want you to leave the state without me ever again.”

Dean tucked himself away and flushed the toilet. “You are making it very tempting to state hop on you, Cas. Cuffs might not be the best deterrent.” He bit his lip as he washed his hands.

“Mmmm,” Cas hummed with a naughty, happy tone. “I just took my tie off.”

Dean froze. He knew that motion. The tug of his tie and that sly little smile he got. “Yeah,” he breathed out slow, gripping his dick that was perking up at the image.

“If you were here right now,” Cas said low and gritty, making Dean’s toes curl, “I would definitely be late for work this morning.”

Dean leaned against the bathroom door, closing his eyes and ran his hand up the hard length in his flannel pajama bottoms.

Cas took a long, deep breath. “There. Blue tie on. I bet you’re hard as a rock.”

Dean’s breath caught slightly and his hand jumped away from his dick as if Cas had caught him. “Uh, yeah. Very,” Dean admitted with shy grin.

“Well,” Cas said in a completely different tone of voice, full of energy and more like how he spoke in public around just anyone, “have a great day!”

“Wait,” Dean sputtered. “I thought...”

“You thought I was going to talk you through jacking yourself off? No. In fact, if you come, and I will know if you do, if you come, you might not have as good of a time in those cuffs as you think you will.”

Dean stood up, shocked as he looked down at his tented pajamas. “Cas!”

“Love you. Have a good day!”

“Cas!” Dean threw one hand out to the side. “Don’t leave me hangin’!”

“Be good, Dean,” Cas chuckled.

Dean gaped at the entire turn of events. “I...” he wanted to say he was going to jack off and there was nothing he could do about it, but the potential disappointment was so not worth it. “I won’t then.”

“Such a good listener,” Cas crooned.

“This call started out so sweet,” Dean said. “You are a dirty, dirty flirt, Castiel Novak.”

Cas chuckled. “I need to leave for work. I love you.”

“I love you too. Ya bully.”

Cas laughed as he hung up the call. Dean glared down at his boner. “I don’t know what to tell ya pal. Go lay down.”

He went out to the living room to grab his bag. Might as well solve this with a cold shower. Damn Cas and his sex voice anyway.

 

*********************************************************

 

Sam shoved his sunglasses on as he walked out of the hotel. He met Crowley at his rental car.

“No.” Crowley barked at someone on the phone. He looked annoyed and was glaring out into nothing as he listened.

Sam leaned against the car, waiting for him to finish his call. They were meeting Jo and Dean at Bobby’s in twenty minutes.

“I know what you’re playing at,” Crowley said smoothly, anger still easily palpable in his tone, “and you’re not getting it. The answer is no.” He listened, glaring upwards. “You listen to me you thieving leech, if you set so much as a toe in my building, I’ll know. Don’t even walk down my street. In fact, how about you leave New York altogether.” Crowley ended the call, dropping his phone into his coat pocket. He unlocked the car and both men got inside.

“Was that Amara?” Sam asked.

“No.”

Sam frowned. He always knew Crowley was snippy. But he hoped he never treated his brother like that. “Was that one of your other clients?”

“My mother, actually,” Crowley answered indifferently.

Sam’s mouth dropped. “Your...”

Crowley backed out of the parking space, stopping to stare into Sam’s eyes. “Mother, yes.”

“Damn,” Sam muttered, looking away.

“We get along better than we used to,” Crowley went on, making Sam no less baffled. “She’s a whore. A witch. But, what can you do? You only get one mother.” Crowley smirked at his own thoughts. “Thank God.”

Sam didn’t want to pry, but damn.

“You aren’t the only one with family drama, Moose.”

Sam nodded slowly, letting the whole conversation alone. He knew there was more there than he was interested in being a part of.

“I’m going to have to leave today. You think you can manage things here in Deadwood?”

Sam huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. I think Dean and Jo are good. Any advice though?”

“Yes. Loads actually, but I’ll keep it Dean-focused.”

Sam smirked. Why did he put up with Crowley again?

“Dean should keep the property with Jo. He needs family and so do the Harvelle’s. But he should definitely go home to his angel.” Crowley gave Sam a conspiratorial look, “whatever that accountant-looking genius is doing with Dean is working like a fucking charm. Keep that going.”

“I just meant -“

“And make him go to the lawyer to sign everything. He gets whiney about doing that sort of thing. Just make him go anyway. And if that lawyer even brings up Denver, Colorado or L.A., you tell him Crowley will,” Crowley chuckled with an evil laugh. “Just tell him you have Crowley on speed dial. He’ll shut up.”

Sam nodded, not even asking.

“If Dean and Jo start arguing, snuff it out. They both need to set aside their differences and make it work. Make it work!”

“Okay!” Sam nodded.

“When you get home, make sure he’s working on that book. It’s good. It’s better than the others. But the one he’s starting about the haunted house, that’s looking like a real winner.”

Sam nodded along.

“And get him on some vitamins. He always does better when he’s taking vitamins.”

Sam quirked a grin. “Wow.”

Crowley glanced at him while he turned down the driveway to Bobby’s place. “What?”

“You literally know everything about him.”

“He’s my client,” Crowley snapped. “It’s my job. I know what he eats. What he should eat. His sleeping habits. What condoms he uses, what size his boots are.”

“Wow,” Sam laughed. “Client, huh?”

“Yes!” Crowley yelled, his voice jumping up an octave.

“I could think of another word,” Sam grinned.

“Nanny?”

“No.”

Crowley frowned, driving over the dirt lane.

“Go on,” Sam grinned. “You can say it, I won’t tell.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Friend. Happy? He’s my friend.”

Sam patted his shoulder as Crowley put the car in park. “Look at you. You have friends and Dean is talking about his feelings. It’s good I came on this trip.”

“Get out of my car,” Crowley growled.

Sam laughed, getting out of the rental to look around Bobby’s place again. His humor with Crowley drained as he remembered just why they were here. And just what Dean had lost.

Jo and Dean leaned against her truck, staring at the house. Crowley stepped up beside Sam, sighing. Sam, sensing how heavy they all felt, nodded his chin up to Dean. “Crowley was just telling me how you two are besties.”

Dean gave Crowley a questioning look as Crowley gave Sam a look like he could kill him with the snap of his fingers.

Sam chuckled. “It was cute.”

Jo laughed as Dean and Crowley grumbled, walking toward the house. Sam hung back with Jo for a moment.

 

*************************

 

Dean unlocked the door to Bobby’s, letting it swing open. Flashes of memories of Bobby gripped him like a barrage of slaps to the face. It punched the air right out of his lungs, making him put his head down and barrel inside. He stopped in the kitchen. Someone had cleaned.

The counters were wiped clean. The dishes all put away. The floor mopped. It felt...annoying. Bobby was clean, but not this spic and span. 

He went out of the kitchen and into Bobby’s den. This room had not been touched. It was just as Bobby had left it. A chair and a stack of books were still shoved off to the side from the paramedics that had attempted to rescue him, but ultimately just had him pronounced dead.

“Dean.”

Dean jumped, turning to Crowley. “Hey!”

Crowley gave him a knowing look, slapping his back. “Listen, love, I really have to go. Looks like New York just can’t get along without me.”

Dean smirked. “Your mom?”

“Bloody witch,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

Dean shrugged. “I’m good, man. I’ll take care of everything.”

Crowley gave him a measuring look. “You look good, Dean. Castiel looks good on you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m serious.”

“I see that.”

Crowley gave him a sly grin. “Do stay focused and finish up here,” Crowley added.

“Got it.” Dean rocked on his heels. He wished Crowley wasn’t leaving, but he was reassured that Sam was still there and he and Jo were closer than ever. “It’ll be fine.”

“Yes, I think it will be,” Crowley grinned. By the look in his eye, Dean got the distinct impression he meant a lot more than just his South Dakota to-do list.

Crowley gave him another pat as he left. Dean gave him a thankful grin and stared back at Bobby’s desk as the room became silent again.

“Why the hell aren’t you still here, Bobby,” he said quietly, eyes tripping over the desk and bookshelves. He walked over to the desk and sat in Bobby’s chair. He had sat here many times as he and Bobby researched and hashed out plot holes.

Sam came in, grinning at seeing him sitting there. “Did you solve all the mysteries in the world? Isn’t that what you and Bobby used to do here?”

“We did!” Dean grinned wide, leaning back in the chair. “If everybody just listened to us, the world would be perfect!”

Sam chuckled as he moved a stack of books to the floor to sit in a chair. “That’s what we need. A world full of Bobbys.”

Dean laughed just picturing it. Bobby waiters, Bobby pilots, Bobby coffee baristas. He laughed even harder, tears watering his eyes. “Can you imagine? ‘You don’t like how I fly? You git out and pedal yerself then!’”

Sam laughed even harder. “Bobby running a grocery store register -‘you eatin’ that? No wonder yer an idjit!”

They both laughed even harder, Jo coming in, laughing at them. 

The silly image faded and Dean was left feeling the hurt. “Dammit, Bobby.” He laid his head down on his folded arms on Bobby’s desk. He sighed heavily, feeling his weariness full force.

Jo was on her feet, scanning the bookshelf. “Why’d he have all these books on werewolves anyway?”

Dean shrugged. “He loved reading about monsters.”

“Aw, he was your number one fan,” Jo giggled.

Dean sat up with a grin. “Yes, he was.” His hand skated over the front of the top drawer of Bobby’s desk with a nervous flutter of his stomach. “He knew them inside and out. Every character and every flaw.”

“Jo still quotes them,” Sam teased. Dean remembered the moment he was teasing her for. It was Christmas Eve several years ago. Jo had been a bit star-struck when Dean first came around. Even with Bobby and his gruff attitude that kept Dean knocked down a peg or two. Jo would quote parts of the books and fawn over him.

“Shut up!” Jo laughed. “Sam, you were just as bad!”

“Uh, no. I never quoted Dean’s books,” Sam swore.

“No, you just kept a journal about it!”

Dean scoffed. “Sammy, are you journaling about me?”

“No! I mean, I have a scrapbook of some career highlights!”

“Wow,” Dean held back a laugh. “That is so...”

“What!” Sam demanded.

“Gay, Sam.” Dean cracked up laughing again.

“Says the gay guy,” Sam yelled.

“TO the gay guy!” Dean laughed again.

“Bobby would just call you both idjits and be done with you,” Jo giggled. “Although, if we look hard enough, we’ll probably find a scrapbook here too.”

“Very true,” Dean sighed, sitting up. He slid the top drawer open, staring at the contents inside. He grinned, missing his grumpy friend. He picked up Bobby’s gun and sat it on top of the desk. He pulled out a file, laying it on top of the gun.

“These both belong to me now.” Dean sighed.

“A lot more than those two things,” Jo said quietly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I meant what I said last night, Dean. I think this place should be ours. Like a vacation getaway. A place to reconnect.”

Dean nodded, Sam looking only slightly surprised. Dean figured he best clarify for his brother before he started asking prodding questions. “Jo and I were talking about keeping this place in both our names. Keep it as a family place. Somewhere to crash or have get-togethers.”

Sam nodded. “Wow. Yeah! That would be amazing! Especially since you’re moving to Lawrence for good.”

Dean quirked a brow at his brother.

“You are?” Jo asked, sitting on the corner of the big desk. “I was afraid of that. If it’s because of me -“

“It’s not because of you,” Dean assured her. “Truth is, when Bobby died, I knew I wouldn’t make it here. Not permanently. And...I do want to live closer to Sam.”

Sam smirked. “I just so happen to be close to the love of his life. Making it easier for him to decide.”

Jo covered her grin, looking at Dean. “Oooh, I see.”

Dean leaned forward, staring pointedly at Sam. “I’m not moving to New York to be near Crowley. And I’m not moving to Lawrence for Cas.” As soon as he said it, he wondered how true that was. “I had already decided I wanted to be closer to you before I even met Cas.”

Sam relented with a shy grin. “Alright. Well, either way, Lawrence suddenly has a lot more to offer than it used to.”

Dean sighed. He had really done some damage with Sam. Too much time and too many missed opportunities were not going to go away over night. While they did fine sharing space, and no one hated each other, some real hurt had been dealt. All he could do was make sure he never did it again. He would be there for Sam as much as he could.

“Well, I think it’s a good plan. I don’t want to live here really, but I don’t want anyone else to have it either. Just us,” Jo nodded.

“So, what do we need to do?” Sam asked, glancing around the Den.

Jo hopped off the desk. “We’re making a list of projects and when we can work on them.”

“Before we get into all that, I gotta go see my baby.” Dean stood up, picking up a wooden box from the drawer.

“No!” Sam said with disbelief.

Dean pressed the correct places on the box, unlatching a lock. He slid the little drawer open and held up a key.

Sam looked like it was Christmas. “You kept her?”

“Did you ever doubt me?” Dean scoffed, unable to stop the rise of joy that bubbled inside him. “I mighta been fucked up, but I hadn’t totally lost my mind!”

“Where is she?” Sam exclaimed, jetting to his feet. Dean took the key, followed by Sam and went out of the house, trudging through the unkempt weeds and grass to one dilapidated shed. He got the hidden key from inside a nearby engine and unlocked the door, sliding it open with a slow, revealing push.

His heart actually thumped in his chest at the unmistakable form of his baby under a cover. “Baby,” he said reverently, “I missed you.”

“You are so ridiculous.” Jo shook her head.

“This car was our entire childhood!” Sam explained, looking more excited than Dean had guessed he would be. “When I thought Dean lost it, I started combing the internet for it. I was trying to find her to buy her!”

“You were?” Dean asked, staring at his baby brother.

“Yeah, Dean! She should be with us! Dad would have been so pissed.”

Dean nodded, staring at the covered car. “Yeah. Bobby helped me hide her. Technically he owned her during my bankruptcy.”

“But, Bobby was gone!” Sam said, confused.

“That’s why you wouldn’t sign anything?” Jo said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You held up all the assets of the will so you didn’t lose your car?”

“Baby,” Dean clarified. “And NOBODY puts Baby in an auction. No. No fucking way. And Bobby would have totally backed up my play, for the record.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

Dean toed his boot at the gravel on the ground. “But I was totally chickenshit about coming here to make things right with you and your mom,” he admitted. 

Jo gave him a guilty grin. “Well, you gonna unveil her, or what?”

Like a five year old on Holiday, he clapped his hands, blowing out a breath as he rubbed them together. He stepped up to her side, gripping the thin cover with both hands. With his heart lighter than it had felt since he was a child, he gave the cover a shake, then yanked it off in a giant flourish. 

As the cloth settled to the ground, Dean was slammed with a rush of nostalgia. “Oh, Baby. You look so fucking perfect.”

“Should we leave you two alone?” Jo laughed. Her laugh was cut off abruptly when she saw tears in Sam’s eyes.

Dean ran a hand over the line of the roof, feeling the metal like an old friend’s handshake. He looked up just in time to catch a giant, sappy hug from Sam.

“I thought you lost her,” Sam whispered, fighting tears. “I was so mad at you, Dean!”

“I know,” Dean nodded, hugging him tight. “I’m sorry I let you down so many times, Sammy. I’m better. I swear. I’m never going back to that life.”

The brother’s hug tightened before they slapped each other’s backs and let go, both of them discretely swiping tears away.

“Come on!” Dean geeked with the cheesiest grin. He put the key in the lock and opened the door, hearing the familiar squeak that had been a constant throughout their childhood. “Hello, to you too, Baby!” Dean laughed. Sam ran around to the others side as Dean sat down.

He breathed in deep, smelling leather, dust, and home.

He reached over to pop the lock, letting Sam in. They both shut the doors and sat there for quite some time.

“It’s stupid how much this car means,” Sam scoffed.

“No, it’s not. People wish they had shit like this in their lives, Sam.” He ran his hand over the dash with pride. “I can’t wait to show her off to Cas.”

Sam grinned. “Remember the time we drove to Maine?”

Dean chuckled. He leaned over, opening the glove box. He shuffled through a few things, pulling out a napkin to a lobster restaurant, dropping it on Sam’s lap.

“Oh my God!” Sam looked at the red lobster and restaurant logo with a mixture of horror and amusement. “You saved a napkin?”

Dean shrugged. “You lost your virginity. Figured you could have a keepsake.”

“Oh my God.” Sam shook his head, shoving the napkin back in the box. There were napkins and pamphlets and maps from all sorts of places.

Dean laughed at Sam’s discomfort. “Told you that guy wasn’t the one for you.”

Sam snorted. “Wish I coulda known that when he dumped me after the summer we had together.”

“I tried to tell ya.” Dean, feeling at home in the firm leather seat, sighed into it with a relief he had not known he had been missing. “Wish I woulda told you more. Wish I had known more.”

Sam gave him a wide grin, his head tipping back and to the side like he did when he was a kid. “Don’t we all.”

They sat in silence for some time, each reliving their own memories. 

“Guess we aren’t flying home,” Sam grinned.

Dean laughed. “Hope you didn’t buy a round-trip ticket.”

“You know I did, you dick,” Sam laughed, shaking his head.

 

Eventually, Dean and Sam made their way back to the house. Jo was in the kitchen organizing and cleaning out a set of drawers.

“Sorry we got so distracted,” Dean apologized.

“Did you know Bobby kept dried herbs?”

“This one,” Dean pointed, “is Wolf’s Bane. He would put it in tea some times. He just thought it was cool.”

“Should I pitch them?” Jo asked.

“No! We’ll use them at Thanksgiving!” Dean snatched the bundle of herbs.

“Thanksgiving? That’s soon!” She gave him a hopeful grin.

Dean tucked the herbs back in the cabinet. “Then we’ll work on the kitchen today so it’s ready for Thanksgiving. Over thanksgiving break, we can work on another project.”

Jo grinned. “Mom is gonna be so excited! So, let’s do bedrooms next. There’s three upstairs and they’re all tiny.”

Dean nodded. “We each take one and that’s our responsibility to fix it up however we want.”

“Sounds good,” she nodded. “Sam, you take the blue bedroom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” She bounced on her feet slightly. “I’ll fix up the tiny room in the back! I haven’t looked forward to a holiday this much in a long time!”

“Me either,” Dean agreed. He knew that left him with Bobby’s room. He wasn’t really ready to deal with that yet. Hopefully he’d be ready by Thanksgiving. Otherwise, he’d be sleeping out in the yard.

They spent that day and the next organizing and repairing and making a list of what they needed for the kitchen. They also went to the lawyer’s and took care of all the paperwork.

When Dean left South Dakota, he felt like a new man. He was back on good terms with Ellen and Jo. Bobby’s place didn’t feel like a mountain of dread he couldn’t handle. In fact, he felt like he could handle anything. He smirked at the road in front of him. He did often feel that way behind the wheel of his baby.

With hugs from the girls, boxes of Bobby’s books and things from his den in the back seat, Sam by his side...shit, the only thing missing was Cas, and that’s exactly where he was headed.

Life felt really fucking good today.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see how Sam and Gabe met (awwwww!). Very Sam/Gabe focused chapter.  
> Warning for graphic violence (memories)

Chapter 13:  Slipping Through My Fingers  
   
   
Gabe put the final ball of dough in a bowl and flopped a towel over the top.  It was Friday night and the pastries were now prepped for Balthazar to finish them in the morning.  Sam and Dean had added an extra day to their trip.  They were due back within an hour or so.  For now, he was getting some much-needed sibling time.  He wiped his forehead with his forearm, giving the phone on the work table a confused glare.  “Sooo...are you dumping this guy?” Gabe asked.  
   
Anna leaned closer into the camera of the phone.  “I don’t know!”  She sat back with a loud, frustrated sigh.  “I thought he had so much potential.  What a bore.”  
   
Cassie frowned at the phone.  “So, you went to the cabin and stayed inside the entire time?  Did you...watch TV?”  
   
“We read.”  
   
Gabe’s head dropped back with a loud snore.    
   
“Well, like, sitting around cozy and reading?” Cassie asked, trying to make sense of their sister’s weekend away with Teddy.  
   
“No.  Like, it’s too quiet in here, something feels off, I’m bored out of my mind, what the fuck are we doing here.”  
   
Cas and Gabe exchanged smirks.    
   
“Okay, so the guy is boring,” Gabe laughed.  “Move on.  Swipe left.”  
   
Anna laughed.  “Swipe left?  Do not tell me you used dating apps to meet people!”  
   
Gabe frowned, busying himself wiping down the table where he had just been working.  Cas sat on a stool across from him, waiting for him to be done.  “Uh.  No.”  
   
“Oh my God, you did!” She laughed.  
   
“Thankfully that phase is over,” Cas mumbled, making Anna laugh harder.    
   
“He used a dating app?” Anna yelled.  
   
“Often.  And with little care,” Cassie bitched as he was so good at doing.  “Look at him!  Ooohhhh, swipe right!” Cassie mocked, making Gabe throw a wad of leftover dough at him.  Cas swatted it down to the table like a lazy cat.  Anna laughed ridiculously, as she did ANY time Cas impersonated him.  
   
Cas did finally crack a grin.  “Anna, we would be eating dinner and some guy would show up and Gabe would say, ‘Oh yeah, I didn’t think you’d mind’,”.  He shook his head, glaring at Gabe.  
   
“Whatever,” Gabe shrugged.  “That’s how I met my Sambot.  So, the app works.  It just took a few dozen duds to find my stud!”  
   
Cas chuckled and Anna ‘awwed’.    
   
“I thought you met Sam at the grocery store,” Anna frowned.  
   
“I did.”  Gabe went on putting the last of the cooking items away.  He grinned at the memory.  “He pinged my phone and I agreed to meet.  I had to go grocery shopping, so I had him meet me there an hour later.”  He laughed at the memory of the confused look on Sam’s face as Gabe drug him through the grocery store.  
   
“We met in the deli section and I proceeded to take him grocery shopping.  He was so adorable.  He started out polite.  Then followed along like a confused puppy, then he just gave in and went along with my shenanigans.  It was genius, I tell you.  You can learn a lot about someone by grocery shopping with them.”  
   
Cas and Anna exchanged a bewildered look.  “Such as?” Cas asked.  
   
“Such as, Sam ate waaaay too healthily.  All salad, all the time.  I knew we were destined to fail.  He actually said he had never even been IN the candy aisle!”  
   
“Shocking,” Anna mocked.  
   
“He bought tofu.  I said, ‘what the fuck is that block of white jiggly shit?’,”  
   
Cas shook his head.  
   
“Ew,” Anna chirped in.  
   
“He got all judgey about all my sugars, I threw his tofu into the lobster tank.”  
   
“Oh my god,” Cas laughed.  “How did you ever make it to date two?”  
   
Gabe chuckled, taking off his apron to hang it up.  “I assured him he needed to live a little.  Eat some chocolate, up your red meat occurrences, fuck a guy in the back seat, ya know...live a little!”  
   
Cas and Anna both stared at him with dropped jaws.  
   
“He said I needed to grow up.  Eat real food.  Decrease my sugar intake.  And then he fucked me in the back seat.”  
   
Anna laughed and Cassie looked mighty stunned.  
   
“Unbelievable,” Cas shook his head with a grin.  
   
“Why can’t I get that lucky,” Anna said wistfully.  
   
The brothers glared at her.    
   
“Oh!  Such a double standard!  You two can have car sex but I can’t?  You two are ridiculous.”  
   
“Uh, no,” Gabe scoffed.  
   
“We’re your brothers,” Cas interjected.  “Double standard is expected.”  
   
“Ughhh!”  She groaned.  
   
“And we don’t all have sex in cars,” Cas went on.  
   
Gabe arched an eyebrow.  “Oh really?  You never got busy in a back seat?”  
   
“Never.”  
   
Gabe shook his head.  “You need to live a little.”  
   
“So,” Cas continued, turning back to Anna, “did you break up with Teddy?  Or were you not even that serious?”  
   
“Oddly enough, he offered to drive me to see you guys this Thanksgiving.  I told him I was fine to drive myself and that I wasn’t really ready to do the family thing.”  
   
Gabe watched as his sister went on about breaking up with the guy gently.  His sister deserved happiness.  And now that he and Cassie seemed so happy, he really hoped Anna would find someone.  He started mentally going through all the men he knew.  He couldn’t think of any right for her.  Maybe she was right.  They were awfully protective of her.  
   
“Maybe the guy isn’t very experienced with dating?” Cas suggested.  
   
Anna sighed.  “I don’t know.  He’s so sweet.”  
   
Cas and Gabe exchanged a look.  
   
“So...bring him for Thanksgiving,” Gabe shrugged.  “If we don’t like him, we’ll let you know.”  He gave her an encouraging grin, which she promptly rolled her eyes to.  
   
“You two aren’t any help.  You’d pick somebody boring on purpose.  Safe.”  She looked off to the side, a truly sad look crossing her face.  
   
“It’s just Thanksgiving,” Cas encouraged.  “You’re meeting Dean and Sam.  So...we all have something to gain and lose here.”  
   
She bit her lip.  “I suppose I could put off breaking up with him.  At least you can see what I’m dealing with here.”  
   
“You gonna be okay making the drive with him and Mom?” Cas asked.  
   
“Oh,” Gabe jumped in, smirking sarcastically, “Mom loves him.  He’s ‘churchy’.”  
   
“Great,” Cas rolled his eyes, looking semi-defeated already.  
   
“Why?  Your guys hate God or something?” Anna chuckled.  
   
“No,” they both answered.  
   
“Sam is...a lot like me.  He’s seen enough to be doubtful.  And he’s very suspicious of super religious people.”  
   
“Dean...” Cas grinned, “Dean will definitely not be Mother’s favorite or probably ever even be approved of by her.”    
   
Anna bit a smile.  “I’m sure Mom won’t recognize him.”  
   
Cas sighed.  “I should just tell her.  She’s going to hear about his reputation.  I’d rather she heard it from me.”  
   
“And there’s still the fact that they have dicks,” Gabe added, getting quick looks of shock from both the siblings, making him grin.  Because no matter how old he got, dick jokes were funny.  
   
And farts.  
   
A well timed (or scented) fart would NEVER get old.  
   
“I’ve been working on her,” Anna assured them.  “She says she’s accepted it and just wants to be a family.”  
   
Cas looked less than enthused.  Gabe had to admit he felt the same way.  “Whatevs.  I’m sure it’ll be a hoot.  I’m cuttin’ you off now so me and Cassie can go home and hopefully get some dick.”  
   
“Gross, Gabe!” Anna yelled.  “And no hitting on Teddy!”  
   
“No problem,” they both answered.  
   
They hung up the phone, the pair heading out the side door to his car.  He would just drop Cas off at home.  
   
Cas tucked his phone into his pocket.  “They should be home in twenty minutes.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “I’ll head to Sam’s.  I got a key.”  
   
“You have a key?” Cas grinned.  “That’s a big step.”  
   
“Yeah.  Not all of us are ready to propose two seconds after meeting someone.”  
   
Cas grinned.  
   
Gabe looked over at him, doing a double take.  “Cassie.”  
   
Cas glanced at him and away quickly.    
   
Gabe pulled along the curb, hitting the brakes a little harder than he meant to.  “Castiel Novak!  What the fuck has gotten into you?”  
   
Cas’ jaw dropped a bit, frowning at him.  “I didn’t say anything!”  
   
“I know!” Gabe blurted.  “That’s why I’m freaking out!  You were supposed to laugh or roll your eyes!  Not grin like that’s exactly what you were doing!”  
   
“I didn’t say anything!”  
   
Gabe blanched again.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  Are you for real right now?  Are you even THINKING about proposing?”  Gabe knew he was yelling, but the audacity of the situation was beyond him.  
   
Cas glared at him, waiting.  
   
Gabe huffed, knowing what that firm line of his mouth meant.  It meant shut up and listen or he wouldn’t say a damn thing.  
   
Gabe snapped his jaw shut, waiting with all the patience he could fucking muster.  
   
“I have thought about it.”  
   
“OH MY GOD.”  
   
“I haven’t acted on it!” Cas snapped, defending himself.  
   
Gabe put his head back against the headrest.  His brother had lost his mind.  No one else meets a guy and barrels through shit the way his brother was doing right now.  Sleeping together on the first date was one thing.  Marriage after knowing each other for three weeks?  Insane!  
   
“Could you MAYBE try dating?  You know, like a normal person?”  
   
Cas narrowed his eyes.  “I don’t care what ‘normal’ people do.  And neither should you.  If Dean and I get married next week, it -”  
   
“Next week!” Gabe squawked.    
   
“It was just an example!”  Cas sighed.  Another grin crossed his face.  “Or maybe we will.”  He shrugged, grinning wide.  
   
Gabe shut his eyes again.  
   
“Night, Gabriel,” Cassie grinned again, getting out of the car.  
   
“You are kidding, right?”  
   
Cassie laughed.  
   
“Cassie!”  
   
Cas gave him a wave without turning around.  Gabe slid up through his open window, sitting on his open ledge.  “Cassie.  What the hell?”  
   
Cas turned, grinning at him, throwing his arms out the sides.  “I love him.  What else do I need?”  
   
“Um, to be sure?” Gabe threw his own arms out.  
   
“What am I waiting for?” Cas laughed, stepping back.  
   
Gabe stared at him incredulously.  His arms flopped onto the roof of his car.  His mind raced for reasons to slow down.  Besides the obvious, get to know him better, he couldn’t find any.  “Do I at least get to come to the freakin’ wedding, Speed Racer?”  
   
Cas weaved through the rusted gate. He turned, heading over the broken sidewalk.  
   
“Cassie.”  
   
His brother’s coat billowed flippantly as he went up the steps with no answer.    
   
“Cas!”  
   
Cas tossed a grin over his shoulder as he unlocked the door.  “I’ll think about it,” he yelled.  
   
Gabe’s arms jumped up in a gesture of blatant exasperation.  His arms dropped onto the roof again as the door shut.  
   
He had to laugh at himself for a moment.  He had always wanted his brother to be happy.  And he was.  So, who was he to stop him.  
   
He slid back down into his car, putting the window up.  He really should ease up on Anna too.  Teddy might have turned out to be a bore, but surely she would find the kind of happiness he and Cas had discovered.  
   
“I wish Sam had a sister, we could just wrap all this up in a nice sibling tangle of a bow.”  
   
   
Gabe drove the quick jaunt to Sam’s place, letting himself in with his shiny new key.  Maybe they weren’t moving at a supersonic speed like Cassie, but they were definitely moving in the right direction.  And that was more than he could say about any other relationship he had before Sam.  
   
Just as he went to shut the door behind him, a rumbling motor caught his ear.  He turned to look, seeing a black sex machine pull up in front of Sam’s.  
   
“Damn.”  
   
He would have left the sight at that, but to his shock, the door opened, and Sam got out.  
   
“Oh, fuckity wow,” he said to himself.  
   
Like a fly to honey, he was drawn down Sam’s porch steps and straight to him.  
   
“Gabe!” Sam grinned, seeing him come straight for him.  
   
“Hot damn, you look good getting out of this sex wagon!”  
   
He plowed right into Sam, feeling him hit the side of the car.  “Kiss me.”  
   
Sam chuckled, leaning down to kiss him.    
   
The warmth that suffused him from Sam’s mouth was revitalizing to say the least.  Sam took every bit Gabe gave him and then hugged him tight with a sigh.  
   
“I missed you,” Sam sighed.  He kissed Gabe’s cheek and then his lips again.  “Now let me get my stuff so I can say hello properly.”  
   
“Oh please don’t be proper,” Gabe exhaled, stepping back.  Filthy would be fine.  Handsy.  Sloppy, even.  But he wanted no part of proper.  
   
“Later, Dean.”  
   
He heard a chuckle from Dean, who was behind the wheel.  As Sam got in the trunk to get his bag, Gabe leaned into the open front door.  “Nice car.”  
   
“This isn’t a car,” Dean smirked.  “This is a family member.  Gabe meet Baby.   Baby, this is Gabe.”  
   
Gabe’s eyes ran over the interior.  There were dings in the dash, wear on the seats, and signs of a road trip.  But it was perfect.  It might not have that new-car smell, but the smell of leather was intoxicating.  “Think we could borrow this tonight?”  
   
Dean’s cocky grin dropped.  “Get the fuck out of my car, Gabriel.”  
   
Gabe eyed the back seat as Sam slammed the trunk closed.  “Roomy,” he grinned.  
   
Dean drifted the car an inch, making Gabe jump back.  
   
“It is roomy,” Dean growled.  “Big enough for your brother.”  
   
“You fucker!” Gabe laughed, slamming the passenger door shut.  Damn Dean.  He had an irritating way of jumping the punch line!  
   
The car took off, red lights disappearing around the block as the engine noise faded.  “Fucking dick.”  
   
Sam frowned.  “Dean?  Dude, you talked to him for like two seconds!”  
   
“It was long enough,” Gabe snickered.  
   
Sam, seeing he was kidding, relaxed.  
   
Gabe jumped up the steps quickly and opened the door for him.  He stared in some surprise as Sam pitched his bag toward the steps and immediately backed him up into the closed front door.  
   
“Damn, I missed you,” Sam muttered, kissing him hard.  
   
Gabe did all he could to keep up, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and melting into the kiss.  He absolutely did not squeal when Sam hoisted him off his feet, Gabe wrapping his legs around his waist.  
   
He held on, as Sam turned them toward the living room.  “You did miss me,” Gabe gasped as Sam kissed down his neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and giving Gabe chills down to his toes.  “Fffffffffuck.”  
   
Gabe’s whole world tipped over as Sam plunged them both onto the sofa, making them moan as one at the collision of bodies.  
   
Gabe opened his eyes, his body chemistry damn near making him dizzy at the speed of plummeting and skyrocketing levels.  “I was coming in here and planning on putting a plug in for you, so I’d be ready!”  
   
Sam pulled up, his brown eyes nearly black with blown pupils from lust.  “You were gonna do that for me?”  
   
Gabe wiggled his hips.  
   
“That’s my job, my little baker.  I stretch you open while I suck your dick.”  Sam gripped his pants by the waistband, yanking them down.  
   
It was a tussle of pulling and a shower of clothes before both men panted naked on the couch.  
   
Sam ran a possessive hand down Gabe’s side, gripping his hip.  “I love these hips,” Sam said through gritted teeth.  
   
Gabe wiggled again, back and forth this time, grinding into Sam.  
   
Sam’s eyes were roving down the small lines of his body, making Gabriel blush even harder.  
   
Gabe grinned slowly.  He laced his fingers behind his own head, thrusting his hips up a pulse.  He didn’t need to say a word.  The naughty challenge was all over his face.  Sam grinned, biting along Gabe’s chin, neck, chest, abdomen, until Gabe groaned languidly.  Sam’s mouth sunk over his cock, latching on as his fingers slid playfully around his rim.  
   
“Missed you,” Gabe mumbled, his hands clawing gently through Sam’s silky hair.  “Gotta say I like the comeback sex though.”    
   
Sam pulled up, biting his lower lip, hair in his eyes.  “Maybe I should go away more often.”  
   
“No, no, no,” Gabe laughed.  “Sam, take me to bed.”  
   
Sam was up in a second, pulling Gabe up as well.  Sam swept him off his feet, carrying him up the steps.  Gabe giggled, latching onto his lovers’ neck, feeling Sam’s entire body shiver when he bit lightly.  
   
He loved that Sam could do this.  He could carry him like the princess he was.  Because, dammit, he was a mother fucking princess.  
   
They tumbled into the bed, Sam flipping him onto his stomach.  He sat against his headboard, Gabe pulled over his lap so he could work him open and tease his cock at the same time.  It was one of Gabe’s favorite things to do.  Like, ever.  It was erotic and naughty.  Sam spent every second celebrating his body by tasting him, caressing him, whispering dirty, dirty things into his ear.  
   
“Saaam,” Gabe moaned, riding back onto Sam’s huge fingers.  
   
Sam groaned in response, his open mouth sliding down Gabe’s side like a hungry man at a barbecue.  
   
“More,” Gabe mewled, riding the three fingers in his ass like a full-blown cock.  
   
Sam flicked his prostate again for good measure, making Gabe gasp and rock.  He moaned when he found himself empty.  Eyes opening, he turned, kissing Sam greedily.  He straddled Sam’s lap and rubbed his ass along Sam’s hard length.  
   
“Want me ta ride it?” He asked, nipping Sam’s lip and groaning.  
   
“No,” Sam said gruffly.  He leaned forward, lowering Gabe onto his back.  His legs were already around Sam’s hips and he watched with caught breath as Sam lubed himself and shoved steadily inside of him until their pelvises touched and their eyes met.  
   
Breathless, Gabe managed to park his heels on Sam’s shoulders before huffing, “Come and get it.”  
   
Gabe gripped his own thighs, his voice climbing as Sam began railing into him hard and fast.  Gabe liked to think it took a special skill to accommodate and service his Sam.  And he was a fucking master at it.  
   
“Oh, Gabe,” Sam panted, gripping Gabe’s hips tight enough to bruise.  “So good!”  
   
Gabe’s hands slid down his thighs to grip his own ass cheeks, pulling them apart.  “Sam!”  
   
Sam hammered into him with a desperate look.  “Gabe, I’m not gonna last long!”  
   
Gabe could feel it.  He felt Sam’s cock thicken inside him, pressing relentlessly against his prostate.  He gripped his own cock.  
   
“Come on me!” Sam gasped, hammering impossibly harder, his cheeks red, his hair tinged with sweat, and his brow furrowed so tight Gabe thought it might permanently wrinkle his forehead.  
   
Gabe barely managed to grip his own cock, pumping it only a few strokes before ejaculating all over Sam’s chest, neck, and chin.  
   
He wasn’t sure Sam even felt it, as he was locking up underneath him and filling him with a hot, wet flood.  They both groaned loudly and collapsed onto the bed.  
   
“So glad you’re home,” Gabe mumbled, feeling Sam push his hair aside and kiss him.  
   
“Me too,” Sam sighed, pulling Gabe into his chest to hold him.  
   
   
   
****************************************  
   
   
   
***Gabe climbed the drain spout and first floor window, crawling onto the bit of roof below his and Cas’ bedroom window.  He slid the window open slowly, slipping inside as quiet as a mouse.  
   
Cassie’s bed was empty.  Shit.  Did he notice he was gone?  Did he tell Mom?  
   
As Gabe stood frozen next to his own bed, a man walked by the bedroom door.  
   
A man.  Not a boy.  
   
Gabe stared helplessly at the hallway.  Was there a man in the house?  His heartbeat thumped heavily.  Their mother never had men over.  
   
Something smelled off.  
   
Gabe had always had a sensitive nose.  There was a metallic scent in the air.  It was wrong.  
   
He jumped when he heard the front door close below him with a slam.  Why would his mom be up this late?  Now that he thought about it, there shouldn’t be any lights on.    
   
The hall light was on.  
   
Lights had been on downstairs.  
   
Oh shit.  He was in so much trouble.  His mom must know he was out!  
   
But why was there a man in the hall?  Had his mother had a man over?  The thought was laughable.  But nothing was laughable right now.  An engine started outside as several car doors shut.  Chills ran up his arms and up the back of his neck.  It felt like the hair on his head was standing on end.  
   
It was wrong.  It was all wrong.    
   
Gabe’s hands clenched into fists.  He swallowed the sick feeling in his stomach and stepped toward the partially open bedroom door.  
   
The hall was not silent.  
   
Why he had not heard it before was a mystery.  
   
Labored, shallow breathing.  Little, short gasps.  “Gabe.”  
   
It was like he had stepped into a horror movie.  
   
In his own home.  
   
He couldn’t make sense of it.  He had only snuck out for three hours!  He just wanted to hang out with his friends!  His mom was so strict, she wouldn’t let him stay out on a school night...so...  
   
“Gabe.”  
   
Gabe’s hands shook violently.  Cassie lay in the hall.  There was so. Much. Blood.  
   
A smear of bright red shone so bright against the white wall.  At the bottom of it, Cas’ yellow pajama shirt was bright red.  Dark red.  There was blood on the carpet.  
   
“Gabe,” Cassie barely managed, little gasps making him shutter.  Cas’ hands flopped onto his shirt.  
   
Gabe launched into action.  “Cassie!  No!  Don’t!”  
   
Cas must be trying to figure out what was wrong with his abdomen as he fumbled around his stomach.  Gabe took his arm, stopping him.  As he crashed onto his knees, blood flooded his hands.  “Don’t touch it, Cassie!”  
   
His brother was so white.  So pale.  His blue eyes looked ice cold until they shut and wouldn’t come open.  
   
“Anna,” he muttered before he was gone.  Gabe, hands covered in blood, looked toward Anna’s room, past their own.  He had not even seen her.  How did he not see her?  She was on the floor, her Little Mermaid nightgown ravaged.  
   
Gabe gasped, turning back to Cas in horror.  “CASSIE!”  He tried to cover the holes.  There was so much blood.  It was everywhere.  And Cassie was quiet now.  Not gasping.  Not scared.  
   
“CASSIE!”  
   
His hands slid and slipped as he tried desperately to hold his brother together.  “CASSIE!  NO!!!  MOM!  HELP!”  
   
“Gabe!”  
   
Gabe gasped and frantically tried to stop the blood.  
   
“CASSIE!” he screamed.*************  
   
“Gabe!  Hey!”  
   
Gabe’s hands shook violently.  Sam was shaking him.  
   
Gabe jolted into being awake.  He was on his knees, sheets in a tangle in his hands.  His shaking hands.  He was kneeling over Sam with sheets twisted into his hands.  
   
“Oh, God.”  Gabe slumped back, scrambling back against the headboard.  Sam sat up quickly, staring at him with such worry.  
   
“Gabe,” Sam whispered, searching his face.  
   
Gabe sucked in a breath, looking at his shaking hands.  No blood.  
   
“You were having a dream,” Sam explained, sitting up fully.  
   
“It was Cas.”  Gabe sputtered, snippets of memories and dream slipping from his mind.  “It was...”  
   
“Were you dreaming about the break-in?” Sam asked, taking Gabe’s hands in his, kissing them.    
   
“Yeah.”  The hallway flashed in his mind.  Cas.  Anna.  Blood.  Bloody footprints.  Bloody handprints.  Police coming into the hall.  
   
Paramedics.  
   
Flashing lights and cop coats.  Officer Henriksen put his big coat on him.  Gabe threw up on it.  He cried.  He cried a lot.  
   
His house was full of strangers.  Medics.  Police.  Uniforms.  Everywhere.  He stayed in his room with a cop and a lady until Henriksen came back for him.  
   
Gabe cried.  Again.  He was so sorry for throwing up on the cop’s coat.  He could still remember the cop kneeling and speaking slow and careful to him like he was five.  
   
“I’m gonna carry you out of here, son.  I want you to make me a promise.  Can you do that?”  
   
Gabe had nodded or some other form of a lie.  
   
“You keep your eyes closed, son.”  The cop nodded his head.  
   
Gabe nodded back woodenly.  
   
Henriksen carried him out.  Gabe watched all the way.  Great bloody stains where his sister had been.  Where his brother had been.  Down the stairs, in the living room, more blood.  
   
His mom.  Where was his mom?  
   
“Gabe!”  
   
Sam was in his face, rubbing his legs and searching his eyes with so much worry.  
   
“Fuck,” Gabe gasped, jolting awake again.  “I haven’t had a nightmare that bad in years.”  He gripped Sam’s hands.  Flashes of that night clogged his vision.  
   
“Hey, hey,” Sam coaxed, sliding around him in the bed to turn the light on.  
   
“Phone,” Gabe managed to choke out.  “My phone.”  
   
Sam nodded, fishing around on the floor.  He sat up.  “It’s downstairs.  I’ll get it.  I’ll be right back.”  Sam jumped up and left him.  
   
Gabe sat in shock, staring at the suddenly silent room.  
   
He had sat in so many silent rooms after the break-in.  Hospital rooms.  Courtrooms.  Foster bedrooms.  Bathrooms.  School rooms.  He’d hide away.  He felt so, so guilty.  If he had been home, maybe they’d all be safe.  
   
His spiraling thoughts were interrupted by Sam bursting into the room with his cell phone in one extended hand and a candy bar in the other.  “I’m back!  Here’s your phone!” Sam said quickly, sitting close to him on the bed.  
   
Gabe put the candy bar in his lap, swiping the screen on his phone.  He called Cas.  
   
“Hello?” Cas answered, morphing from sleepy to alert within one word.  
   
“Cassie?” Gabe breathed with some relief.  
   
“I’m okay.  What’s going on?”  
   
“N-nightmare,” Gabe managed, his hands shaking.  He shivered, his jaw chattering.  Sam curled around him, weighing heavily on his lap.    
   
“I’m okay,” Cas sighed.  
   
Gabe listened, his heart rate slowing as he listened to Cas explain to Dean that he’d had a nightmare and was calling to check on him.  “It’s okay,” Cas went on.  “I’m okay, Gabe.”  
   
Gabe sucked in a sob, blowing it out without letting the cry fully form.  He nodded his head, fighting with all he had to keep his sanity in check.  
   
Sam gave him a pleading look, taking the phone.  “Cas?  What should I do for him?  I woke him up, or, I thought I did.  Then he had another nightmare.”  
   
Cas sighed.  “Just reassure him.  Sometimes I would make him hot chocolate.  It’s best to get up with him or he will roll into another nightmare.”  
   
“Okay.  I’ll do that.”  
   
“Sam?”  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“Thank you for being with him.  If you need me to come over, I’ll be there.”  
   
Sam sighed, caressing Gabe’s cheek.  “I’ll get him up.  He’s going to be fine.  Thanks Cas.  Here, I’ll let you say goodnight.”  
   
Gabe took the phone back.  “Cassie?”  
   
“Gabe, I’m right here.  I’m going back to sleep, but you call if you want to listen to me breathe.”  
   
The ludicrous thought struck a nerve in Gabe.  His spinning thoughts and memories screeched to a halt.  “You’re such a dick.”  
   
“I don’t mind.  To keep it interesting I’ll put the phone between me and Dean and you can hear us both breathe.”  
   
Gabe laughed.  All the horror shifted into what his life really was.  Cas was alive.  Anna was alive.  Mom was alive.  Sam, the love of his life, was staring at him with such worry in those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes.  “Night, dick.”  
   
“Night, Gabriel.  I love you.”  He could picture his schmuck of a brother grinning.  
   
“I love you too,” he chuckled, ending the call.  
   
Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed now.  “Come on, let’s go have some hot chocolate.”  
   
Gabe grinned weakly.  It had been rare that he had this dream and couldn’t immediately get his hands on his brother to feel better about it.  He swiped down to the next contact, calling Anna.  
   
She answered, sounding mostly asleep and slightly alarmed.  “Hello?”  
   
“Anna?  You okay?”  
   
“Um...yeah?”  He could hear her blankets rustle as she moved in her bed.  “You okay?”  
   
“I’m okay.”    
   
She yawned loudly.  “Did you have a nightmare?”  
   
“Yeah.  Full gore.”  
   
“Oh, Gabe.  Honey, I’m fine.  Did you call Cas?”  
   
“He’s fine.”  
   
“Of course he is,” she said sweetly.  “I hate that you still have nightmares. I’m just home sleeping. I was watching some cooking show and fell asleep on the couch.”

Gabe grinned at that. His sister was good at acting like nothing had ever happened. Like her life was supposed to be lived in a wheelchair. Like she was not slightly terrified just at Gabe having a nightmare. They all tried to keep the past in the past. It just so happened that Cas and Gabe could talk about it. Their mother and sister acted like it was a non-event. 

“Are you worried about Cassie living on his own? Or you living on your own?”

“I don’t know,” Gabe sighed, rubbing his face. Both were a hella-yes.

“Mom and I talk about me moving out sometimes. But...I don’t know. I’d never live by myself.”

Gabe frowned at that. It sucked that his sister was so controlled by the actions of one horrible night. Anger began to replace his fear.

“Are you alone tonight?” She asked.

“No.”

“Tell Sam to make you watch The Office. That always makes you laugh.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“Anytime.  Want me to stay on the phone?”  
   
“No.”  He took Sam’s hand with a squeeze.  “Sam’s gonna make me some hot chocolate.”  He grinned down at his lap, picking up the candy bar.  He gave Sam a questioning look.  Sam shrugged, looking helpless and adorable.  
   
“I’m gonna go, Anna-banana.”  
   
“Okay.  Love you.  Tell Sam ‘hi’ for me.”  
   
“Will do.  Love you.”  
   
He ended the call, holding up the candy bar.  “Do we have a dementor problem I don’t know about?”  
   
Sam scoffed a laugh.  “I have a sad-Gabe problem to worry about!  Sad Gabes like candy bars.”  
   
Gabe took a deep breath, shaking the last of his nightmares away.  He pushed a smile onto his face and let Sam pull him out of bed.  Sam folded him into a hug.  The fact that they were both still naked should have made it odd, but all the contact with Sam’s warm skin only helped chase his chills away.  
   
“Jammies,” Sam announced, stepping back.  He yanked the dresser open and tossed pajamas at him.  
   
Warmly dressed like they were on the cover of a 90’s JCPenney’s catalog cover, they went downstairs to the kitchen.  
   
Gabe sat at the table while Sam busied himself making hot chocolate.  
   
“So,” Sam said softly as he stirred the milk in the saucepan, “can you tell me about it?”  
   
Gabe, realizing he was staring blankly at the wall in Sam’s kitchen, turned to look at him.  Sam was the epitome of everything Gabe had ever wanted in a partner.  Sweet.  Funny.  Gorgeous.  Smart.  Honest.  So many good things that he seemed unreal.  He had skirted the details of that horrible night.  It had changed their family so drastically that he feared even talking about it would change the people who knew about it.  It was silly, he knew.  But talking about it brought it all back.  
   
He never wanted to go back.  But Sam was trying to understand him.    
   
“I snuck out.  Went to my friend’s house down the road.  I wasn’t even gone long.  I left when Cas fell asleep.  Around 11:00.  I was back just after 2am.”  He had told Sam the gist of what happened.  But the gory details were what haunted him.  “Cas was bleeding so bad that I couldn’t stop it.  When I pushed down on one place, another would gush.  I knew I was hurting him...but he passed out.  He died.  Did you know that?”  
   
Sam shook his head, his face pale and solemn.  
   
“He died in the ambulance and they brought him back.  Anna too.  She coded on the operating table.  They were both technically dead.”  
   
Sam didn’t say anything, just stirred and waited, listening.  
   
“The neighbor had noticed flashlights moving around in the living room.  She called the cops.  It was good she did.  If it had been up to me, they both would have died from my stupidity.”  
   
“Whoa,” Sam snapped sternly.  “You can’t blame yourself for that, Gabriel.”  
   
Gabe stared at Sam a few seconds.  “I don’t think you’ve ever called me that before.”  
   
Sam moved the milk onto a cold burner and came to sit by him, taking his hand in a firm grip.  “That break-in was not your fault.  If you had been there, you would have been hurt too.  You were fourteen, Gabriel.  Incapable of taking down two or three robbers!”  
   
Gabe frowned, his stomach feeling sick again.  “I don’t like that you’re calling me Gabriel.”  It might be petty, but he felt scolded.  
   
Sam’s stern look softened.  “I want you to pay attention.  For real.  What happened was awful.  But it’s over.  You’re all alive.  Your brother and sister love you so much, Gabe.  So much.”  
   
Tears burned his eyes.  Sam could go back to being stern.  Because saying nice stuff like that was going to break his heart.  He would never understand why Cas and Anna forgave him.  Shit, they never blamed him to begin with.  No, that was Michael and Raphael.  They blamed him.  They told him what a lousy son and brother he was.  And they hadn’t even been there.    
   
He couldn’t quite agree with what Sam was saying, but he heard him nonetheless.  
   
Sam stood up, kissing the top of his head before he went back to warming the milk.  
   
“An ambulance came.  Seemed like forever.  Seemed like the cop and me were in that hallway for an eternity.  He was a nice guy.  Gruff.  But nice.  Officer Henriksen.  When the ambulance finally got there, he took me into my room and had some social worker stay with me.  I was freaking out.  I thought for sure Cassie was dead.  They said they gave him enough blood to change his blood type.  Full system renewal.”  Gabe smiled weakly at the memory of a nurse trying to joke with him on the matter.  It hadn’t gone over well back then.  
   
“I felt so bad when he said Anna had a pulse.  Like I didn’t even try.  She looked so...dead.  I thought she was already dead.”  
   
He sat there for some time, reliving the moments with the police.  “Our mom had been knocked out.  She heard noises in the living room and came down to check.  She said there were two men moving the TV.  She started screaming, but one of them caught her and hit her so hard she was knocked out.”  
   
Sam sat a huge, steamy mug of cocoa in front of him.  It had whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.  
   
“We’re out of cherries,” Sam shrugged.  
   
“This is beautiful,” he grinned, holding the warm cup like a heater.  “Thank you.”  
   
Sam kissed the top of his head again.  His arms circled him, hugging him when Gabe tipped over, laying his head on Sam’s broad shoulder.  “I shoulda been there.”  
   
“You were there.  You probably saved Castiel’s life.  Without you slowing the bleeding, he might have died.”  
   
Gabe looked down at his clean hands.  “There was so much blood.”  
   
“I know,” Sam nodded, kissing his forehead.  “But you all made it.”  
   
Gabe nodded.   They made it.  Crippled.  Scarred.  Traumatized.  They made it.  
   
His fingers itched to call Anna again.  He was tempted to get up and demand they go to Cassie’s.  He clung onto Sam’s strength for a moment before willing himself to be reasonable.  Cas was fine.  Anna was fine.  It had been a dream.  
   
“I wanna watch a movie,” he blurted.  
   
“Yeah,” Sam grinned.  He could feel his sad mouth move into a smile.  Somehow the movement made him feel better.  He looked up at Sam, searching his brown eyes for something.  
   
Yep, there it was.  
   
Love.  
   
He kissed him, wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders.  “Sorry for all this.  I love you for trying so hard to help me.”  
   
“I love you, Gabe!  All of you.  The scars, the family, the history.  All of it.”  
   
Gabe sighed with such hope that Sam was right.    
   
They snuggled together on the couch with their cocoa and watched ‘The Wedding Singer’.  Cuddled into Sam’s side, knowing everyone was safe, Gabe knew he was going to be alright.  
   
   
 


	14. A Gathering of Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to meet more family and more friends. The gang takes a trip.

Chapter 14:  A Gathering of Sorts  
   
   
November was passing quickly.  Dean had attempted to rake.  He had gathered quite a huge pile of leaves for the borough to gather on “leaf collection day”.  But Cas’ front yard...their front yard, still looked like an abandoned tangle of weeds, leaves, tree roots, branches, and gnarly overgrown bushes.  It made Dean wince every time he came through the rusted gate.  But it was a bitter cold November, and he had vowed to address the entire situation in the spring with absolute gusto.  
   
Cas seemed indifferent to it, focusing more on the paint color, wallpaper, windows, and furnishing the place.  
   
Dean’s writing room had grown over the past few weeks.  His storyboard had attained a few new pages, pictures, and yarn.  Sam had given him a bookshelf, which Dean had filled with Bobby’s monster lore books.  He had bought several lights and a huge rug from the used furniture store in town.  He was bringing Bobby’s desk and chair back with him when they went to his place for Thanksgiving.  He missed his old friend.  He knew having the desk here would make him feel better.  They had spent a lot of time around it.  
   
Dean had been turning in work as steadily as if this were his first book.  The room, and the stability of Cas, Sam, and even Gabe, was a welcome change.  Also, Crowley was his usual self, paired with a big-name publisher who acted like normal people instead of the storm of negativity that was Amara.  It was the healthiest environment Dean had ever been in.    
   
He felt like he could stretch out and really become himself.  He could let so many of his guards down.  His old wounds were there, but they were quiet.  His old addictions were there, but he had control of them.

He felt...good.  
   
   
Dean jogged down the U-shaped stairs, glancing up at the brightly lit sunrise of their stained-glass window.  He pulled his buzzing phone out of his pocket as he went, seeing Crowley’s smug face pop up on his screen.  Dean swiped the screen to answer.  “Sup, Crowley?”  
   
“Brilliant, Dean.  This last chapter had me on the edge of my seat.”  
   
Dean grinned hard.  “Yeah?”  
   
“I like Meg.  You better not be killing her off.”  
   
Dean smirked.  “She’s a side character.  Her pages are numbered.”  
   
“Come on!”  
   
Dean laughed.  Crowley had never been interested in a character like this before.  
   
“She’s witty!  And compleeeetley kicked the wendigo’s narrow behind in the woods!”  
   
Dean listened as Crowley went on about six of the characters and how Meg was his favorite.  He went into the last room Cas was painting and began pulling off the painter’s tape.  As he listened and gathered enough tape to make a volleyball size wad of tape, he stood back to marvel at Cas’ work.  He was becoming adept at painting.    
   
“So?  You aren’t killing her off, are you?” Crowley ranted.  
   
“You know I’m not giving away the good stuff,” Dean said.  
   
Crowley sighed.  “Bollox.”  
   
“So, you decide if you’re coming to Thanksgiving?” Dean asked, changing topics, before Crowley tried to drag book details from him.  
   
“I suppose.”  
   
“Yeah?  Good!”  
   
“You better pick me up at the airport, Squirrel.  South Dakota.  Why, in God’s name did you have to go and put down roots in the middle of nothing?”  
   
“They’re practically your roots too,” Dean grinned.  “I’ll pick you up.  Just text me when.”  
   
“Fine.  See you tomorrow then.”  
   
Dean closed the window that was open just a crack to let the paint fumes out.  He touched up a few spots of paint and considered the room done.  
   
He went downstairs and began taping off the trim in the living room.  They had plans to paint the living room and dining room when they got back from Sioux Falls.  He had met all his writing deadlines and was free from any      due-dates until after Christmas.  This gave him the next month to take care of some things, including a lot of work inside the house.  
   
   
   
*************************************  
   
   
   
Gabe’s head perked up when he heard Balthazar call out “Aunt Naomi!”  He quickly put the last pie into a to go box and closed it.  Licking his finger and thumb free of an errant glob of cherry pie filling, he jogged through the kitchen door, into the main part of the bakery, arms wide.  
   
“Mom!  Anna!”  
   
His mother grinned, hugging him stiffly.  He bent quickly, hugging Anna, sitting right on her lap, making her laugh.    
   
“Get off!” She laughed, pushing him.  
   
He got back to his feet, kissing her cheek and hugging her again.  “Man!  I missed you!”  
   
“Missed you too!” She said softly, muffled into his shoulder.  
   
He stood up, hands on his hips with a broad smile.  “So, what do you think of the place?”  
   
Anna maneuvered around him a bit, looking at the new pastry counter.  “It’s looking better and better!”  
   
“Thanks!” Gabe nodded, watching his mother’s keen eye travel around the place.  He realized there was a man he didn’t know, standing behind Anna, watching him.  
   
“It smells heavenly in here,” Naomi grinned.  Her blue eyes stopped on him.  “You two are really doing well for yourselves.  I’m so proud of you.”  
   
“Thank you,” Balthazar nodded, already bringing her and Anna coffee.    
   
“Guys,” Anna interrupted, rolling back and to the side an inch.  “This is Teddy.  Teddy, this is my brother Gabriel.  And my cousin, Balthazar.”  
   
“Nice to meet you,” Teddy grinned, nodding his head.  
   
Gabe’s eyes narrowed.  He had light brown hair, a close mustache and beard, and cold, pale blue eyes.  Gabe’s immediate inclination was to pull his sister behind himself and protect her.  
   
This was not the guy from the photo Gabe had come across while looking him up on the internet.  Not that it was impossible to get wrong information on the web, but it made him immediately suspicious.  
   
He was not much taller than their mom.  He wore a jean jacket, Henley, and jeans.  He looked like your every day average jerk.  But all men looked like jerks when they ogled his sister.  
   
He and Gabe stared only a few seconds, but there was something more Gabe couldn’t put his finger on.  He broke the stare when his mom started talking.  
   
“So, business is still going well?” Naomi asked, sitting at a table with Anna.  
   
“Yeah!  We’re talking expansion!  But this town was just perfect.  There’s only one other coffee shop and it’s a Starbucks at the mall.”  
   
“Coffee?” Balthazar asked Teddy.    
   
“No, thanks.”  
   
Strike two, Gabe thought, not even giving the guy another look.  Don’t have coffee, you prick.  Strike one had been the douchey jean jacket.  
   
“It does amaze me,” his mother said with a grin, “just how well you have turned out.”  
   
“Me?!” Gabe sat back, his thumbs pointing back at himself incredulously.  “I was a winner from the gate!  Cas is too quiet, Anna isn’t funny, and the twins are no fun at all!”  
   
Anna punched his shoulder, making him wince and pull away.    
   
His mom laughed.  “I was talking about success, not humor, Gabriel.”  
   
“Please.  It’s the same thing.  No one wants to work with buzz-kills like Raph and Mike.”  
   
Anna bit her lip, stopping a laugh.  
   
“You know they hate being called that,” his mom said, tipping her head to give him a soft warning look.  
   
“I know.  That’s why I do it.”  
   
Anna laughed.  “So, what’s this surprise you won’t tell us about?”  
   
Gabe grinned.  “Ya can’t say no.  That’s the beauty of it.”  
   
His mother looked worried.  
   
“We’re going to South Dakota for Thanksgiving.”  
   
“What?” His mother snapped, eyes going wide.  Anna gave him a curious look as well.  
   
“To Dean’s?” Anna asked.  
   
“Yep.  He’s got some extended family there and we’re all going.”  
   
“That’s ridiculous!” His mother said, her head tipping, bobbing, and reminding him of a little bird, like she always did.  
   
Ha. The sales pitch.  Gabe cleared his throat, putting his I’m-actually-being-serious face on.  “Dean has had a lot going on this year.  The guy needs to be with his family.  I promise next year we’ll come to Illinois.  It’s only a couple hours drive, and I’m paying for the hotel.”  
   
Anna looked mildly impressed.  Most likely with him and not the bonus trip.  
   
“Oh, Gabriel.  It’s always something with you!  What do you have us walking into?” His mom frowned, making him feel a teensy bit bad.  
   
“Dean’s friends Jo and Ellen and Crowley will be there.  Other than that, it’ll just be us, Sam, Dean, and Cassie.  No crazy surprises.  Promise.”  
   
“Are we leaving today or in the morning?” Anna asked.  
   
Gabe caught Teddy looking up with a look of recognition on his face.  Who the hell would he know in Lawrence?  Gabe’s eyes flicked up to the door, seeing Cas come in.  
   
As he rushed forward, hugging Anna, Teddy’s face relaxed.  He must have recognized him from pictures from Anna.  
   
“It’s so good to see you,” Cas murmured, still hugging Anna.  
   
“You too,” she said back, letting him go.    
   
As Cas stood tall, he grinned at their mother.  “Mom.  Hello.”  
   
She was up, on her feet and coming to hug him.  “I’m so glad to see you.  You look wonderful!”  
   
Cas ducked his head shyly.  
   
Gabe could see the real effort their mom was making.  Gone were the judgey looks and awkward questions.  She seemed happy to be around them.  The real test would be meeting Dean and Sam.    
   
Gabe frowned when Cas’ smile drained from his face.  He stared at Teddy with some sort of shock on his face.  
   
“Cas, this is Teddy.  Teddy, my brother, Cas.”  She tugged on Cas’ sleeve, making the pair look at her.  
   
“Nice to meet you,” Teddy nodded.    
   
And there it was again.  Something flat in his tone.  Something with an edge.  
   
Cas stared at Jean-Jacket a moment longer.  His social cues never were as good as the average person.  
   
“Have we met?” Cas asked, stepping closer to Teddy.  
   
Teddy frowned.  “No.  I doubt it.  Did you live in Aurora with Anna?”  
   
Cas’ eyes were narrowed.  And Gabe could swear his brother was two shades paler than normal.    
   
“I have,” he finally answered.  
   
“Well, maybe you met at church,” Anna suggested, whacking Cas’ arm.  
   
Cas stepped back, still frowning.  “No.”  
   
“Musta seen each other around,” Teddy nodded, turning to sit back down at the table.  
   
“I understand we are going to South Dakota for your friend Dean,” their mom interjected, shifting the focus off Teddy.  Cas’ scowl only shifted to her though.    
   
“Dean is more than my friend, Mother.”  
   
“Right!”  She put a hand up.  “Sorry, I just...I don’t really know anything about him.  Last we spoke, you were single.  Now...”  
   
“Now, I’m with Dean,” Cas clarified, his mood lightening as he pulled up a chair.  “Things have progressed quickly.  Dean and I are living together and are very much in love.”  
   
Gabe huffed a laugh.  Leave it to Cas to make it sound like a description of a milk jug.    
   
“Cassie!” Gabe jumped in as Cas’ eyes went back to Teddy with suspicion.  “Come help me load the car with pies.”  He jumped up, swatting Cas’ elbow, getting a glare from him as well.  
   
Cas followed him silently to the kitchen.  
   
“Gabe, you said you looked him up.  Who is this guy?” Cas asked, barely through the door.  
   
Gabe opened his laptop on the work table.  “I DID look him up.  That is not the Theodore Nielson I looked up.”  Gabe went back to his search, turning the laptop to Cas.  
   
They both stared at a photo of a brown-haired man that looked to be in his early twenties.    
   
“Everything checks out, except this picture is not him.  Aurora, Illinois, college, there’s nothing to him, really.  No record.  No school issues.  He’s...boring!”  
   
“Facebook?” Cas asked.  
   
“I looked.  He’s not on.  Or any other sites.”  
   
“He looks so familiar.”  
   
Gabe frowned.  “I don’t like him.”  
   
“Neither do I.”  Cas gave him a worried look.  “But we never like the guys she likes.”  
   
Gabe shivered, rolling his right shoulder.  “Yeah but this one’s extra douchey.  What are we gonna do?  Anna’s gonna think we’re just being dicks.”  
   
Cas closed the laptop.  “Find out more about him.  Make him uncomfortable if we have to.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “Happy fucking holidays.”  
   
   
*******************************  
   
   
Sam put his bag of shampoo, conditioner, mouse, and anti-frizz cream, into his duffel bag.  He heard the doorbell ring and went down the steps.  He was expecting Gabe and family soon.  
   
He yanked open the front door, his smile shifting to a look of shock.  “Holy shit!  Hi, Benny!”  
   
Benny grinned, tipping his cap.  “Hey there, Sammy.”  
   
Sam stepped onto the porch, hugging him.  “How’ve you been?”  
   
“Good.  Good.  ‘S cold up here.  I forgot how cold it gets.”  
   
Sam waved him inside.  “You look great, man!  What are ya doing here?”  
   
“Jus figured I’d check on Dean.  He’s been dodgin’ my calls for two months.  I don’t like when he goes quiet.”  
   
Sam nodded.  “He’s actually doing really good.  He moved back here.  Did you know?  He’s got a boyfriend.”  
   
Benny nodded along.  “I heard all about the saintly Castiel.  Hope he’s half as good as Dean paints him to be.”  
   
Sam nodded, going into the living room.  Benny sat down on the couch, his wool coat still on.  
   
“He’ll be here - ” Sam looked out the window, hearing the unmistakable sound of Baby rolling up.  “Here he is.”  
   
Benny sat back, looking a little relieved.    
   
“Can I get you anything?” Sam asked.  
   
“Wata would be most appreciated.”  
   
Sam smirked.  “Man, your Cajun accent is thicker than it was when you were last here.”  
   
Benny grinned.  “Back to my roots, I suppose.”  
   
Sam looked up as Dean came in.  
   
“Hey!” Dean grinned at him.  His face quickly flashed to shock as Benny stood up and Dean saw him.  His hand flew up to his mouth in shock.  “Benny!  What the fuck?!”  
   
Dean hugged him hard, Benny hugging back the same.  Sam went into the kitchen to get Benny some water.  He grinned at the pair of friends.  The three of them had had some good times together.  Some hard ones too.  When he left for New Orleans, Sam had not heard from him much at all.  Cards on holidays, a call once or twice a year.  But he had always been Dean’s best friend.  
   
Sam brought the water out, offering it to Benny.  Benny took it, gripping Sam’s shoulder.  “Didn’t he grow up jus perfect?”  
   
Dean laughed.  “Yeah.  He turned out to be better than all of us.”  
   
Sam rolled his eyes.  “Shut up.” If he had a dollar for every time Dean and Benny had sounded like parents to him, he’d be living in a much fancier house.  
   
Benny grinned, letting go.  He took a long drink.  “Wata’s betta here.  Nawlen’s (how locals said New Orleans) wata’s brown.”  
   
“Ew,” Dean and Sam made disgusted faces.  
   
“So, you here to give me hell for radio silence?” Dean asked, giving Benny a guilty look.  
   
“Partly.  Yes.  I...”  
   
Dean shook his head gently.  “Sorry, man.  I don’t know why you put up with me.”  
   
Benny shrugged.  “We put up with each other.”  They exchanged one of those looks only two people who have been friends through thick and thin can share.  “You look good.”  
   
Dean grinned.  “I am good.  Probably the best I’ve ever been.”  
   
“Damn,” Benny raised a brow.  “That’s pretty good then.”  
   
Another knock sounded at the door.    
   
“That’s probably the Novaks,” Sam said, heading to the door.  Sam pulled the door open.  “Hey!  Come in!  Come in!”  
   
Gabe came in, followed by Cas pushing a red-head in a wheelchair that had to be Anna, an older woman that must be their mom, and a guy, that had to be Teddy.  
   
“Sam,” Gabe grinned, “this is Anna, my mom, and Teddy.  Gang, this is Sam and Dean and...?”  
   
“This is Benny!” Dean piped in.  “My friend from back in the day.”  
   
Lots of hand shaking and helloing ensued.  
   
Sam made an effort to speak to Gabe’s mom, leaning down to hear her question about going to South Dakota.  “Oh, yeah.  Gabe wanted to surprise you.  It only takes a few hours to get there.  And Ellen is a wonderful cook.”  
   
She smiled a shade warmer than ‘tightly’.  “Gabe already packed six pies to bring along.”  
   
“Oh!  Good!”  Sam stood taller, seeing Dean talking to Teddy and Benny talking to Anna and Cas.  He took a deep breath.  Thanksgiving was usually just him.  This was a LOT of people.  And Bobby’s house was even smaller.  Suddenly the logistics of the trip seemed ridiculous.  He grinned at Naomi again, inching his way to Dean.  
   
Dean had stepped away from Teddy, joining Benny.    
   
“Hey,” Sam tipped his head, catching Dean’s eye.    
   
Dean squeezed around Cas.  “What?” He said under his breath.  
   
“Dude, how are we going to fit all these people at Bobby’s?”  
   
Dean frowned.  “I don’t know!”  
   
“This was your idea.”    
   
Dean sighed.  “Crowley’s already on a plane.  I can’t change the plan now.  Or you can all stay here, and Crowley and I will go with Ellen and Jo.”  
   
“No, no.”  Sam rubbed the back of his head.  “It’ll work.  We’ll make it work.”  They watched as the crowd talked.  “Umm. We better get some folding chairs.”  
   
“Yeah.  And a table.”  
   
Cas broke out into a huge grin at something Anna said.  “I think I better rescue Benny,” Dean frowned, heading over to the group.  
   
Sam texted Jo about extra chairs and a table.  He put his arm around Gabe automatically as he got close to him.  He put his phone in his pocket and pulled his arm away.  “Sorry.  Forgot.”  
   
“What?” Gabe asked.  “My mom?  Uh uh.  Just be you.  Please.”  
   
Sam let himself relax a little.  “Really?”  
   
“Absolutely!” Gabe gave him a come-on sort of look.  
   
“Alright,” Sam grinned, leaning down to kiss him like he wanted to.  Just a peck, but really, he felt better already.  
   
Gabe grinned wide.    
   
“So, how we doing this?” Dean said above the chatter.  The room got quiet.  “I’m driving.  Who’s riding with me?”  
   
“Me,” Cas and Benny answered.  
   
“I can drive,” Sam offered.    
   
“Shotgun,” Gabe called.  
   
“Anna?” Dean grinned, winking at her.  
   
She giggled, making Cas roll his eyes.  “Sure!  Teddy and I will ride with you.”  
   
“Wheels up in fifteen,” Dean grinned.  
   
“You’re with us, Mumsie,” Gabe smirked.  
   
She smiled, making Sam feel a little better.    
   
   
****************************************  
   
   
Castiel felt more on edge than he had felt in a long time.  Benny was rubbing him the wrong way.  For starters, his brown hair and blue eyes were giving him a complex.  Maybe Dean had a ‘type’.  And if he did, he and Benny were not much alike past the eyes and hair.  
   
He did not like the protective stance or the smooth way he spoke.  He knew his own voice was low and rough.  Benny’s coat was trim and stylish, while his own was not flattering at all.  Knowing the two had been friends for years made Cas that much more aware of how much history the two had and how little he and Dean had.  
   
It all had him feeling more insecure than he would care to admit.    
   
He pulled his coat on as he stepped outside.  He needed to get his things from the car and switch them to Dean’s.  After moving his bag, he came back up to the porch, finding Benny standing there waiting for him.  
   
“I told Dean I’d see him when he gets back.  Looks like y’all have enough family to go around.”  
   
Their eyes met, but Castiel immediately backed down.  He would feel better if Benny were two states away.  Or more. However, being an unwelcoming ass to Benny just might do more harm than good.  He reined in his dragon-size jealous-beast and truly thought about the situation.    
   
“You should come.  Dean is so excited to see you.  Honestly, with the two families meeting, it’s good you are here.  Dean has told me you are like a brother to him.”  
   
Benny’s eyes narrowed only slightly.  “You sure?”  
   
“Quite,” Castiel grinned wider than might actually be true, but he had done his part.  In Castiel’s mind, he had handed ‘friend’ Benny a proverbial rope.  Only time would tell if he would hang himself with it.  
   
“Well, alright then.”  He tipped his hat and headed back inside.  
   
Castiel had to bite his lip.  He really hoped he had done the right thing.  
   
   
****************************************************  
   
   
   
The ride to Sioux Falls was long.  Especially with Mom in the back seat.  Luckily, Sam drove like an old lady, so she was happy with his driving.  In the meantime, Dean arrived 45 minutes earlier than they did.  Gabe praised himself for surviving a road trip this long.  He really didn’t like riding in the car.  It was restraining.  Boring.  He’d much rather fly or take a boat.    
   
Sam put his hand on his bouncing knee.  “We’re almost there.”  
   
Gabe gave him an apologetic smile.  “I’m driving home.”  
   
Sam shook his head with a grin.  “If it makes you feel better to drive, then fine.”  
   
“Looks like the others are already here,” his mom said.  
   
“Yep.  Dean speeds like a maniac.  Another reason why Sam will be your favorite.”  Gabe gave his mother a cheeky wink.  
   
Sam whacked him on the shoulder.  “Stop that!”  He looked back at his mom, brow furrowed.  “He doesn’t speed like a maniac.  Just...a little.  Speeding.  Sometimes.”  Sam turned back around, still frowning at his flustering, making Gabe chuckle.    
   
“Fine.  As long as you like him more than Theodore.”  
   
“Teddy is a nice young man,” Naomi assured.  
   
“I don’t like him,” Gabe said, crossing his arms over his chest.  
   
“He goes to our church,” his mom said.  As if that meant he were equal to being wonderful.  “Sam, what church do you go to?”  
   
“Oh look!” Sam said loudly, hitting the brakes a little suddenly.  “We’re here!”  He rocketed out of the car so fast Gabe had to laugh.  
   
“Gabriel, does he go to church?”  
   
Gabe sighed, feeling Sam’s acceptance points dwindle like house points after Fred and George pulled a prank.  
   
“No Mom.  He doesn’t go to church.  But trust me, he knows God.”  
   
She gave him a confused look but seemed to push the thought aside.  “He really does seem like a nice man.”  
   
Gabe turned around, surprised at just how good her acceptance felt.  “Thanks, Mom!”  
   
She smiled.  “I’m so happy for you Gabe.  My happy boy.  You were by far my happiest child.”  
   
Gabe’s grin softened.  Every crowd needed a comedian.  His older brothers were the perfectionist twins.  Cassie was always a worrier.  Anna was sweet but sensitive.  That pretty much left room for a clown.  
   
“I’m so proud of you,” she added, squeezing his shoulder.  
   
Gabe’s smile faded.  “Thanks, Mom.”  
   
She reached forward, cupping his cheek in her hand.  “Sam makes you happy and that’s all I need to know.”  
   
Well shit.  Here he was, fighting off tears.  Leave it to his mother to provide a tear-jerker moment when he wasn’t expecting it.  
   
She withdrew her hand and opened the car door to get out.  Gabe followed suit, checking out the tiny blue house.  
   
There were cars everywhere.  
   
Seriously.  Like...all over the fucking place.  
   
“Where the fuck are we?”  
   
   
************************************************  
   
   
   
The gathering at Bobby’s house was loud and boisterous.  Bobby would have bitched up a storm with so many people being in his house.    
   
But he would have loved it too.  
   
Ellen, Naomi, Gabe, and Cas started preparing dinner and getting the kitchen squared away to cook in.  The small kitchen table was pushed to the side and used as a work area.    
   
Sam, Dean, Benny, Anna, and Teddy went to work loading books, the desk and chair, bookcases, and boxes of various things Bobby had collected over the years, into the small trailer Dean had hauled there.  They loaded a few pictures and some of Bobby’s personal items as well.  
   
When Dean came back from the airport with Crowley, he made himself a spot in the living room to go through Bobby’s papers.  The man kept everything.  
   
Jo showed up with the groceries her mother had called for her to pick up.  She and Dean decided what else would stay and go.  
   
By dark, they were all exhausted.  Sam took them all to a local hotel, while Jo, Dean and Cas stayed at the house.  Dean and Jo made plans for putting the turkey in the oven early.    
   
Jo and Dean stood on the porch late into the night.  Cas came out to join them when he had finished vacuuming the downstairs.  
   
He stood next to Dean, slinging an arm around his waist.  “The downstairs is pretty much ready for tomorrow.”  
   
Dean tipped his head, leaning it against Cas’ as they both stared up into the clear, cold night.  “The place looks great.”  
   
Jo yawned.  “I’m heading up to bed.”

“How’s your room coming?” Dean asked. “All I did was bring new bedding for Bobby’s.”

“It’s adorable!” Jo grinned. “I painted it. I hung lights, I got rid of all the junk in there. I found three guns, by the way. I put them with the others. Bobby hid guns everywhere. There was one under the bathroom sink upstairs!”

Dean nodded with a grin. “Such a trusting guy. I got all the others. Found one in the porch light.”

“A gun?” Cas asked incredulously. “How is that possible?”

Dean grinned. “It was tucked up just beneath the rim.”

Cas shook his head, laughing.  
   
Jo shrugged. “The guy was definitely paranoid. So, that little room is all ready for a guests. Tonight, that guest is me!”

Dean hugged her goodnight, kissing the top of her head.  “Okay.  I guess Cas and I are sleeping in Bobby’s old room.”  
   
“Good.”  She grinned up at him, then moved over to hug Cas.  “Night.”  She stopped before going inside.  “What’s up with Anna’s boyfriend?  He gives me the creeps.”  
   
“I don’t know,” Cas said, so full of dark meaning that Dean and Jo exchanged haunted looks.  “I do not trust him.”  He looked up, both of them meeting his eyes.  “Let me know if you find anything out about him.”  
   
Dean snapped his fingers.  “Jo, you should totally flirt with him and see if he takes the bait.”  
   
“Dean!” Cas said in shock.  
   
“What?  See if he’s a cheater!  I don’t like the guy.  He’s...shady.”  Dean shrugged, pulling Cas by the hand so they went inside with Jo.  
   
“I don’t know,” Jo said quietly.  “I don’t think I could do that to Anna.  I like her.”  
   
“I love her dearly,” Cas insisted.  “It is for that reason I want to know more about the man.”  
   
Dean and Jo nodded.    
   
Jo went up the steps.  Cas followed Dean as he walked around, locking doors and checking windows.  They made their way upstairs and into Bobby’s old room.  
   
The room had been cleaned several times since he passed, but Dean could feel him everywhere.  A picture of his wife sat on the night stand.  His closet was still full of flannels and coats.  He had one suit in there too.  It had made him and Sam chuckle and wonder what the hell Bobby ever used a suit for.  The bedding had long since been changed, but Dean still felt his presence.  
   
He had not realized he was standing at Bobby’s closet, staring at his row of flannels, until Cas’ arms wrapped around him from behind making him take a breath.  
   
Cas laid his head against the back of Dean’s.  “Are you glad we came?”  
   
Dean’s hands wrapped around Cas’ arms.  “Yeah.”  He stared at all the flannels.  Some of them brought back specific memories.  
   
“You should keep them,” Cas said quietly.  
   
“Bobby’s shirts?  That would be weird.”  
   
Cas’ arms squeezed him tighter.  “No, Dean.  It wouldn’t.”  
   
Dean stared at a tan and blue one.  It was the one Bobby was wearing when he showed up at that police station.  He had marched in like a fucking superhero.  It was as if the man reached into a pit of snakes, pulled him out and took him away to safety.  He reached up, gathering the fabric into his hand.  “He woulda really liked you, Cas.”  
   
Cas propped his chin on Dean’s shoulder.  “I would have liked him.  Anyone who saw you for who you were and kept you safe from others and yourself, is a hero in my book.”  
   
Dean pulled the shirt off the hanger, gathering it in his hands.  “I would not be here if it weren’t for him.”  
   
Cas’ hand covered Dean’s heart.  He didn’t say anything, but Dean felt his hug tighten.    
   
“I’m gonna keep this,” Dean whispered, afraid if he spoke louder, Cas would hear the tremble in his voice.  
   
Cas turned Dean in his arms, making him look at him.  “If you want to move here, Dean, I’ll find a way to make it work.  I can sell the house.”  
   
“No,” Dean frowned.  “No.  I’m glad we can come here.  But no.  Lawrence is good for me.  All of it.  Sam.  No,” he glanced around the room, “I like being able to come here.  But I want to go home.”  
   
Their eyes met.  
   
“To your house.”  Dean clarified.  
   
Cas grinned gently.  “Our house.”  
   
Dean shook his head, pulling Cas into a tight hug.  “You are by far the most perfect person I’ve ever met.”  
   
Cas pulled back, giving him a guarded smile.  “So, would now be a good time to tell you my mother has a lot of questions for you?”  
   
“Oh God,” Dean dropped his head onto Cas’ shoulder, only whining mildly when he felt Cas kiss his neck.  “About my book tours?”  
   
“Yes.  I explained a lot of it, but she insists on talking to you about it all.”  
   
Dean wilted.  “Okay.”  
   
Cas chuckled, rocking Dean in his arms.  “I’ll be with you.  But I’ll warn you, she can be a bit scary.”  
   
Dean sighed.  “She can’t be worse than Ellen.”  
   
“Ellen is rather intimidating,” Cas admitted, letting go of Dean to pull his shirt off.  
   
“Yeah.  Shoulda seen her when she hated me.”  Dean folded Bobby’s shirt, tucking it into his bag.  He stood up, pulling his own shirt off, catching the angry look on Cas’ face.  He waited until they were both in their pajama bottoms and t-shirts before addressing the brooding wave that had taken over Cas.  
   
They got in bed, Cas flat on his back and Dean curled up to him.  He propped up on one elbow, running a finger over the little dip in Cas’ chin.  “What?”  
   
Cas shrugged.    
   
“What?” Dean coaxed.  
   
“I...” Cas looked like he was searching for the right way to say something.  “I don’t know why you want to be with people who have treated you so poorly.”  
   
Dean sank back down, needing the reassuring arm Cas put around him.  “Because...they’re family.  We lost Ash and things got ugly.  But...they both apologized and I want them in my life.”  
   
Cas’ hand slid up his arm.  “Okay.  But I can’t promise if either of them says anything smart to you, that I won’t tear them to shreds.”  
   
Dean tipped his head up with a chuckle.  “Same goes for your mom toward you.  Or that Teddy douchebag.  Your sister can do waaay better.”  
   
“Agreed.  Did you find anything out about him?”  
   
“He just agrees with everybody and nods along.  But he looks like he’s casing the joint.  He always looks - ”  
   
“Like he’s making plans,” Cas finished, Dean nodding in agreement.  
   
“I don’t trust him,” Dean added, nuzzling into Cas.  
   
“Me either.”  Cas kissed him and they both snuggled in, pulling the covers close.  
   
   
   
*************************************  
   
   
Gabe had to admit Thanksgiving was not his favorite holiday.  For one thing, there was no candy involved.  Pies, yes.  Making the whole thing doable.  But no presents, no candy.  Easter had egg hunts and lots of candy.  Christmas had tons of things to go do and presents and candy.  Valentine’s Day was candy and sex, so...yeah.  Definitely a fave.  Halloween had parties, candy, costumes.  Yep, another good one.  Fourth of July had picnics and fireworks.  Fairly weak on the holiday scale, actually.  But Thanksgiving was about spending all day cooking one meal that would be over in an hour.  It was lots of sitting around and visiting family.  Okay, family was great, but there wasn’t even fireworks.  Yeah.  Thanksgiving was his least favorite.  
   
The bonus stresses this year of his mother meeting Sam, being in South Fucking Dakota, and his sister bringing along Jean-Jacket douchenozzle, had him antsier than usual.  
   
He pulled into Bobby’s salvage yard (so fucking sketchy, by the way) and stopped by the porch.  Teddy got out, getting Anna’s chair out of the trunk.  Sam got out, heading for the house.  Benny knelt down to Anna, giving her a flirty grin.  “Would I be a monster if I just offered to carry you to the door?”  
   
Anna grinned.  Considering the parking area was gravel and dirt and there were steps to the porch, it did make the whole transition quicker.  
   
“I suppose.  If I’m not too heavy.”  
   
Benny slid one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, lifting her easily to his chest.  “Light as a featha.”  
   
Gabe smirked as his sister giggled.  He watched as Teddy followed them with her chair.  
   
“Mom.”  They were the only two in the car.    
   
She hesitated from scooting out the back seat.  She gave him an open, curious look.  
   
“Mom, I’m not trying to be a dick here,” he turned so they could look right at each other, “but what’s the story with Teddy?”  
   
She sat back, “They met at church a few months ago.”  
   
“Yeah,” he fought to not roll his eyes.  “But do you like him?”  
   
“He’s very polite.  Very kind to Anna.”  She nodded curtly.  “He’s a gentleman.  And I don’t think he’s half as questionable as that Dean.  I cannot believe we are all crowding into this little shack for Thanksgiving dinner.”  
   
Gabe sighed.  “Okay.  Truce.  I’ll quit bitching about Teddy.  And you give Dean a chance.  He’s been through a lot.  And sometimes they’re the only kind of people to get what we’ve been through.”  
   
Even the barest hint of their past was enough to have his mom looking away uncomfortably.  “Well, he doesn’t seem like Castiel’s type.  I can’t imagine this will last long.”  
   
Gabe frowned.  “Mom, Cassie is in love.  Hardcore.”  He stared at her a moment, willing it to sink in.  
   
She shook her head, looking at the house.  “We’ll see.”  
   
They got out of the car.  Gabe blew out a breath, hoping the sun could set tonight without any major disasters having happened.    
   
He went inside, grinning at the sight of Anna already bossing Cas, Dean, Benny, and Teddy around.  She was a good decorator with a keen eye.  He had no doubt the place would be as spiffed up as possible.    
   
“I’m taking that shelf back to Lawrence,” Dean frowned when Anna had said to move it outside.  
   
“Dean,” Cas frowned.  
   
“What?  It’s real wood!”  
   
“It’s trash, honey,” Anna said kindly.  “Let it go.”  
   
“What?”  Dean lifted his end of the shelf higher, the top separating from the base.  The wood was warped, stained, and Gabe was pretty sure he saw some mold on it.  
   
“Dean!” Gabe yelled.  “It’s seen its better days, bro!  Let it...turn to dust or whatever dead furniture does!”  
   
“It can be refurbished!” Dean argued as Sam came over and took the end of the shelf from him, nodding for Benny at the opposite end to move.  “No!” Dean huffed.  “It’s gonna be fine!”  
   
“Dude.”  Sam stopped, staring at his brother.  “It’s dead.”  
   
“Dude!  It’s not!”  
   
“Dean,” Sam sighed, his head tipping back in frustration.  
   
“Dean,” Cas chuckled, taking his arm.  “Let it go.  It’s got mold!”  
   
“It’ll scrape off!” Dean made an attempt to grab the shelf, blocked by Cas, who spun him around.    
   
“It won’t make the trip.  It’s falling apart,” Cas insisted.  
   
“Well, we could use the boards for something, right?” Dean bantered.  “Anna, refurbish?”  
   
Anna hid her grin.  “I’ll look at it later to see if any of it can be salvaged.”  
   
“See?” Dean said quietly at Cas.  Cas nodded patiently, re-directing Dean to help move another shelf.    
   
“No wonder he likes your house, Cassie,” Gabe mumbled as he walked past them and into the kitchen, getting a glare from Cassie and shooing wave from Anna.  Teddy just watched them all.  Lurking.  Dude was a lurker.  Creeper.  
   
He went into the kitchen.  “It smells like heaven in here!”  
   
Ellen gave him a grin.  She was sitting at the table peeling potatoes with Crowley.  
   
“You would not know what heaven smells like,” Crowley growled.  
   
“In fact, I do!  I’m an angel!  Gabriel?  What kind of name is Crowley?  It sounds hellish.”  
   
“Gabriel,” his mother scolded.  
   
He forgot, he couldn’t joke about such things with his mom within earshot.  She was at the sink, starting to wash dishes.  
   
“Just kidding!”  He turned to Crowley, sticking his tongue out at him, which Crowley promptly returned.  Ellen chuckled at the pair of them.  
   
“What can I do?  And don’t say ‘go away’.”  
   
“Bollox,” Crowley grinned up at him.  
   
“You can put a pot on ta boil,” Ellen offered.  
   
Gabe joined in the kitchen fray.  He might as well be busy.  
   
   
By the time dinner was ready to start moving to the table, he was amazed at how beautiful the room looked.  Bobby’s shabby den had been emptied of bookshelves, cases, books, and knick-knacks from all over the world.  They had three small tables lined up covered with a white table cloth.  The chairs were mismatched but there was something very quaint about it.  The only other things in the room were lamps and the fireplace.  The whole room had been dusted and polished.  
   
He came through the door, huge turkey tray in hands.  “Hellloooo!”  
   
“Wow!” Everyone called out.  Food covered the table, the crowning bird stealing the show.  He took a seat next to Sam, kissing him.  It was one of those moments Gabe would look back on for the rest of his life.  His family all together.  His mom, his sister, Sam, Cassie, Dean.  And on and on.  Crowley, Ellen, Jo, and Benny.  It was their first meal all together.  
   
And their last.  
 


	15. The Boot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning - This might not be quite what you were looking for.  
> *Ducks head with nervous giggle*  
>  

Chapter 15:  The Boot  
   
   
Thanksgiving was spent milling about Bobby’s house and property.  It was unseasonably warm with a record-breaking high.  It was barely cold enough for a jacket outside.    
   
The meal had been delicious, and the conversation had been boisterous.  Dean could not remember a better Thanksgiving.  
   
He took a seat at the empty table, drinking some water after the hustle and bustle of helping to wash dishes and put leftovers away.  He stared up at the mantle.  He had proudly displayed picture of Bobby with him, Sam, and Jo on the mantle over the fireplace in what was now a dining room.  Though he missed the guy, he felt like he was right here with them.  
   
He was happy Bobby’s whole bottom floor was easy for Anna to access.  He liked her a lot.  Her boyfriend could use some work.  Teddy seemed polite in the way a disgruntled employee is polite.  Even Anna gave him a questioning look at one point.  
   
They were all relaxing for a few hours before dessert was served.  Dean smirked at the thought.  He had already eaten a slice of apple pie and a slice of pecan.  Gabe would be ticked off, but it only made Dean smirk harder.  
   
“What are you looking so guilty about?”  
   
Dean glanced up, seeing Anna watching him from across the table.  She must have come in while he was daydreaming in his post-turkey coma.  
   
Dean laughed at getting caught.  “Nothing!  Just...I’m just feelin’ fat ‘n happy!”  
   
She smiled with a knowing glint.  Anna had grown up with four brothers.  It showed.  She didn’t take any gruff from Gabe or Cas (even though it was plainly obvious they loved her).  He leaned forward, studying her face a bit.  “Hey, I gotta ask a question.”  
   
She leaned in closer to hear him.  “Do you and Cas have the same dad?  You all look so different.”  
   
Anna grinned.  “Mom hardly talks about it, but no.  Have you seen pictures of Raphael and Michael?”  
   
Dean shook his head no.  “Cas has told me some stuff, but not much about them.  He said they weren’t invited because Gabe doesn’t get along with them.”  
   
She nodded, scrolling through pictures on her phone.  “No.  They don’t get along well.  They gave Gabe a hard time after the break in.  They apologized later but the damage was done by then.  Gabe had so much guilt.”  She scrolled quietly through her photos, finally stopping on a picture.  She turned her phone around to show him.  The photo was of Anna and two black men kneeling on either side of her, all grinning politely at the photographer.

Dean chuckled.  
   
Anna chuckled back.  “So, Raphael and Michael have the same dad.  Gabe and Cas have the same dad, and I have a sperm donor somewhere.  Michael and Raphael’s dad was, I believe, our mom’s true love.  She never got over his death.  Cas and Gabe’s dad bailed a long time ago.  My dad was never around.  In case you didn’t notice, my mother can be a little intimidating to be around.”  
   
Dean raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing.  
   
“I don’t think Gabe, Cas, and my dads could equal what Michael and Raphael’s dad was.  So, they left.”  She shrugged.  “Mom raised us just fine on her own.  Except that the twins, Michael and Raphael, were always treated like gold and we were...not.”  She said quietly a moment, lost in thought.  In a much smaller voice, she added, “Until the break-in, anyway.  Then things were pretty equal.”  
   
She cleared her throat, eyes jumping back to Dean.  “Michael and Raphael spent Thanksgiving with their grandparents.”  Her grin softened to something sadder.  Her gray eyes trained on the photo on her phone.  “Gabe has every right to not want to be around them.  They blamed everything on him.”  
   
Dean nodded, knowing what she meant by ‘everything’.  
   
She sat back, looking him square in the eye.  “I wish that night had never happened.  Not to get my legs back.  But so my brothers could trust again.”  She stared at him for another moment.  “Cassie really likes you.  But you have to know, if you do him wrong, we don’t fight like normal families.”  
   
Dean’s brow raised as chills ran up his arms.  All the Novaks had a quality to them.  A power lying just beneath their skin that seemed to be lying in wait to unleash.  “I have no doubt,” he managed.  
   
She smiled more fondly at him.  “I like you, Dean.”  
   
“Thank God,” he sputtered, without even thinking.  “I mean, I do not want to see what it looks like if you don’t like me.”  
   
She screwed her mouth up a bit, tapping her fingers on the table.  “Cassie and Gabe don’t like Teddy.  I can tell.  And honestly, I was kind of unsure before we came if I even liked him.”  She glanced around the room belatedly.  
   
“He’s outside.  Probably standing there staring at something.  He doesn’t seem wrapped too tight, Anna.  I think you can do better.”  
   
“Yeah,” she sighed, leaning her chin onto her hand.  “Dating sucks.”  
   
“Yeah.”  He laughed, actually feeling relieved at the thought.  “I’m glad I don’t have to date anymore.”  
   
She sat up, quirking her mouth.  “What do you mean?”  
   
“Oh...” Dean hadn’t really meant to get into any of this.  Damn.  Anna was good.  He took a deep breath, going for total, stupid honesty.  “I’m done dating.  Cas is the one for me.  I know it.”  
   
She laughed, pausing to look at him in wonder before laughing again.  “In that case, you better go win my mom over!”  
   
Dean winced.  “Got any pointers?”  
   
Anna sighed, sitting back.  “Thick skin.  Don’t lie.  And it really doesn’t matter because Cassie is absolutely in love with you.  As badly as she screwed up when Cas had a boyfriend the last two times, I don’t think you can fail.”  
   
“Huh.  I might just make it,” he grinned.  “Thank you Ishim and...the other guy.”  
   
Anna shook her head with a grin.  They both looked up as Sam and Benny came in.  
   
“Hi, Anna,” Sam said, not having spent much time with her.  “They want us to come in and get you to play corn hole with us.”  
   
“Sure!”  She pushed away from the table, stopping just inside the doorway.  “Mom!”  
   
Naomi said something from the living room.  
   
“Dean’s in the dining room.  He wanted to talk to you.”  She turned, winking at Dean.  
   
Sam and Dean exchanged dropping jaws and wide eyes.  
   
“Anna!” Dean hissed.  
   
“Aw,” Benny shook his head, looking down at Anna, “yo a trouble maka!”  
   
She giggled, wheeling around him and down the hall toward the door.  
   
Meanwhile, Dean’s eyes grew as big as saucers as Naomi came into the dining room.  “Hello, Dean.”  
   
“Uh...hi...” Dean fidgeted, knowing he was trapped.  He sat up a little straighter as Naomi sat primly across from him.  “I, uh, I hope you had a good time today.”  He tried for a winning grin.  
   
“Yes.  It was nice.”  She smiled mildly.  “I do have some questions for you.”  
   
“Okay,” he blew a breath out.  “Right to the point.  I see where Cas gets it.”  
   
She cleared her throat.  “I was made aware that you have quite a public...presence.”  
   
“Oh...” Dean licked his lips slowly, gathering his gumption and his thoughts.  “I wouldn’t say it was a big presence.”  His knee began to jiggle nervously, and his hands began to sweat.  
   
“Wild, I’d say.”  She laced her fingers, staring at him with intense blue eyes similar to Cas’.    
   
“Yeah,” Dean admitted slowly.  “I made a lot of stupid decisions and was led astray by a publisher who stopped at nothing to have a ‘bad boy’ to get her company into the headlines.  I do want to clarify that I have no illegitimate children.  I have no children.  Not that I have anything against children!  I just didn’t want you to think any of those headlines were true.”  He sat back with a frown.  
   
Naomi seemed to think about it for a moment and then nodded with a small grin.  “Congratulations on being a writer.”  
   
Okay, he wasn’t expecting that.  “Um...thank you.”  
   
“I must admit I have not read your books, but I will.”  
   
“Oh,” he waved a hand with a nervous laugh, “you don’t have to.”  
   
“Nonsense.  Castiel has told me all about them.”  
   
Dean grinned just thinking about Cas talking about him to his mom.  Something inside Dean relaxed.  “I hope you like them.  But it’s fine if you don’t.”  
   
Naomi nodded.  “I worry that you and Castiel are moving too fast.”  
   
Dean stifled a chuckle.  “I can’t say I blame you, but unfortunately, Cas and I only seem to operate in high gear.”  
   
Dean licked his lips, sitting back in his chair.  He contemplated the weight of the conversation he was about to have.  “Mrs. Novak, I know I don’t know everything about Cas.  But I know enough to know he’s the one.”  
   
Naomi’s blue eyes went wide.  She sat up extremely straight.  “That seems extremely rash.”  
   
“Uh, yeah.  I’m sure it does.  But...I have never loved anyone like I love him.”  
   
Her posture softened.  
   
“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  And I’m pretty attached to Gabe too.  It’s crazy how quick it’s all falling together, but...”  
   
She slumped slightly in her chair.  “You...you get along with Gabriel?”  
   
“Gabe?  I love Gabe!”  
   
She smiled with a shy grin.  “Not everyone gets Gabe’s humor.  Or can tolerate the sheer amount of it.”  
   
Dean scoffed, waving her off.  “He’s hilarious!  And Anna is fantastic!”  Except when she throws me under the bus, he did not add.  “Cas...” Dean glanced toward the window, hearing Cas laughing with Anna outside.  “He’s...” Dean grinned at the sound of Cas happy. “We fell in love almost as soon as we met.”  
   
“How did you two meet?” She asked.  
   
Dean’s face paled.  “Uhhh...” oh hell.  So much for the mom liking me.  “So...I’m a writer.  And the house that Cas lives in is...well, it’s rough looking on the outside.  It’s been that way for years and...”  
   
His knight in shining armor came into the doorway, smiling at Dean and his mom.  “What are you two doing?”  
   
“Cas!”  Dean practically jumped out of his seat.  Cas gave him a mildly concerned look, coming around the table to sit next to him.  “Your mom was just asking how we met,” Dean said in a rush, searching Cas’ face for any hint on what to tell her.  
   
Cas sat down, taking Dean’s hand with a reassuring grin.  “Dean broke into my house.  He is sometimes too curious for his own good.”  His loving gaze shifted to his mom.  “I kicked his ass and called the cops.”  
   
Dean closed his eyes.  Freakin’ Cas.  
   
“Gabe came by with Sam.  Sam talked me out of having him arrested.”  Cas’ amused grin landed back on Dean.  
   
Dean glanced at Naomi nervously.  “I just wanted to see inside!  I thought the place was abandoned!”  
   
Naomi scowled at him.  “You broke in?”  
   
Ha!  Time to turn the tables.  “No.  The door was unlocked.  So, technically, I just came in without knocking.”  
   
Cas rolled his eyes.  “It was harmless,” he went on to his mom, “but I knew as soon as my temper cooled that Dean was someone pretty special.”  His hand gripped Dean’s tighter as he smiled.  
   
Dean’s irritation and nerves melted away at the absolute confidence in Castiel’s grin.  He blushed at the thought of Cas thinking he were anything special.  “Yeah, as soon as I could see straight, I was hooked.”  
   
“Well,” Naomi’s voice cut in, breaking the stare they had going.  “That was a most unconventional way of meeting.”  
   
They both grinned, Dean still blushing.  
   
“You have a lovely family,” Naomi said quietly, catching Dean’s full attention.  He met her piercing blue eyes.  “Sam.  The others you seem to be family with.  This was actually quite a lovely day.”  Her smile was kind.  Dean sat back, relaxing a bit.  Naomi’s gaze drifted to the window.  “I haven’t seen Anna this happy in a long time.  She really misses you and Gabriel, Cas.”  
   
Cas was watching out the window too.  Anna was shoving Gabe at the waist, knocking off his throw.  Benny and Teddy, standing at the opposite box, were watching the pair.  Benny was laughing but Teddy barely looked amused.  
   
“Maybe you should move here, Mom.  Lawrence is a nice town.”  
   
Naomi shook her head with a grin.  “No, I couldn’t possibly.  I’d miss all my friends.  My church.”  
   
Cas nodded resolutely.  “Well, the invitation is open.”  
   
Dean turned back from the window, finding Naomi watching him.  She stood up, making Dean swallow hard.  “Thank you for welcoming us so generously.”  
   
“Yeah!  Uh, thanks for coming all the way to South Dakota.  I...really needed to be here.  I appreciate you being willing to come so far.”  
   
She nodded politely, grinning sweetly at the pair of them.  “I’m so glad to see you this happy, Castiel.  It...it makes my heart happy.”  
   
Cas let go of Dean’s hand and stood, he and Naomi left the room.  Dean watched them as they stood on the porch.  Cas was talking quickly, Naomi looking concerned as she listened.  
   
Dean sighed.  He was not sure what Naomi thought of him. Or him and her son being together. He was not sure what Cas would be explaining so quickly that had her looking a bit shocked. He sighed heavily. His attention drifted back inside as he stared at the picture of him, Sam, Jo, and Bobby.  Ellen had taken the picture.  Sam and Jo were sitting on the hood of one of Bobby’s cars, Bobby leaning against the car with Dean, one arm draped over the old bugger’s shoulder, the other holding a shotgun.  He found himself sitting there smiling at Bobby’s grin.  They had spent so many hours out in the salvage yard.  
   
He jumped slightly when a hand landed softly on his shoulder.  He looked up into Cas’ blue eyes.  “Hey!”  
   
Cas gave him a warm grin followed by a steamy kiss.  It took Dean a few minutes before his thoughts came back to him.  “Everything alright?  Your mom looked worried.  She hates me, doesn’t she?”  
   
Cas’ grin firmed into a semi-stern line.  His hand firmed into a steady grip, pulling Dean up, promptly sitting him on the table and pushing between his knees.  “She does not hate you.  She approves of you very much.”  
   
Cas’ hands had Dean blushing again.  “Really?”  
   
“Do I look like I’m joking?”  Cas’ serene eyes assured Dean he was telling the truth.    
   
“No,” Dean grinned.  He leaned forward, kissing Cas.  Cas’ hands gripped Dean’s hips, his fingers stretching to grab his ass.  “Cas,” Dean grinned, pulling back, only to be chased and plied open with another heated kiss.  “Cas,” Dean whispered, really wishing Cas would bend him over this table and -  
   
“Hey!”  
   
The pair sprang apart, gasping.  
   
Ellen stood in the doorway, hand on her hip.  “Take that upstairs, for cryin’ out loud.”  
   
The pair laughed, Cas stepping away.  “Yes, ma’am,” Cas chuckled.  Dean got to his feet, turning his back to Ellen to hide his rather obvious boner.  
   
“Go play with the others,” she shooed.  Dean laughed, taking Cas’ hand, heading for the door.  
   
Once outside, they burst into laughter.  “She scares me,” Cas admitted.    
   
“She scares me too,” Dean laughed, falling into Cas’ hug, kissing him.  Dean moaned softly as Cas’ lips shifted from grinning to kissing with more want.  He gripped Dean by the waistband, kissed Dean’s neck and whispered into his ear, “If you don’t want to have sex in Bobby’s old room, you better think of another spot to take me tonight.  Because one way or another...” he pulled back, meeting Dean’s wide eyes.  He lifted one brow.    
   
“What?” Dean grinned with a tease.  “What are you gonna do?”  The challenge made Dean buzz with want.    
   
Cas gave him a stern look, making Dean’s ass literally wiggle.  “Should I take you out for a walk?”  
   
Dean envisioned Cas taking him for a walk through the salvage yard, finding a backseat and making the old heap of metal rock.  He kissed those firm lips, feeling Cas fight a smile.  “I really wanna go for a walk.  But there are too many people here right now.”  
   
Cas pulled back with a grin.  He ran his hand back through Dean’s short hair.  “Sounds like a moonlit stroll is in your future.”  
   
Dean grinned wide, backing away.  Cas pulled him back in, making Dean stumble into his solid chest.  “Did you bring a plug with you?”  
   
Dean’s eyes went wide.  “Uh...yeah!”  
   
Cas’ face lit up.  “Remind me to reward you for that later.  That is, if you’re wearing it when we go for a walk.”  
   
Dean’s jaw dropped.  Oh, if only he could grab the sun and make it set right now!  Fuck!  He wanted Cas right the fuck now!  
   
Cas nudged him away with a cocky little grin.  “Til then, I really should spend some time with Anna.”  
   
Dean gaped at Cas’ back as he walked away.  He turned away, staring out at the rows of cars.  “Son of a bitch.”  
   
   
**************************  
   
   
Gabe backed up, sitting on Anna’s lap with a grin.  Usually she shoved him off.  Her upper body was stronger than his any day.  But today she giggled and hugged him tight.  
   
Gabe covered her small hands with one of his.  She laid her head against his back.  “I miss having you around.”  
   
“You do not,” Gabe grinned.  “I’m a pain in the ass!”  
   
“You are.  My favorite pain.”  She hugged him tighter.  “I really like Sam.  He’s adorable.”  
   
Gabe turned, putting an arm over her shoulders.  “Yeah?”  
   
She grinned up at him.  “He’s very handsome.  And he’s sweet.  And he gives you the dopiest, mushiest looks.”  
   
“I know, right!”  Gabe could not help but gush.  
   
“I’m glad you finally got a good one.”  
   
“Speaking of...”  
   
Anna’s head dropped back with a groan.  “I know.”  
   
“Oh good.  So, I don’t have to be a big brother dick about it?”  
   
“No.  When we get home, I’ll tell him I’m not interested in seeing him anymore.”  
   
“Thank you.”  He blew out a dramatic breath.  
   
“Get off, Mister-I-know-everything.”  She pushed him off her lap, making him scramble to his feet.  
   
He laughed, standing up tall.  “So, ignore him and have fun around him like he doesn’t exist?”  
   
“Don’t be mean!” She whacked his thigh, making him jump back.  
   
“So vicious!  Like a viper!”  
   
She darted a hand out, snatching his wrist.  Gabe let himself be pulled in easily, kneeling at her side.  She gave him a vulnerable smile.  “You think Teddy is just freaked out by my...wheels?”  
   
Gabe closed his eyes, shaking his head.  “No.  Anna, stop.  The guy is a dud.”  
   
She nodded, looking down at her hands, letting go of his wrist.  “I am really regretting bringing him along.  I thought he was comfortable being around me. But lately...I don’t know. I wish he would just leave.  It’s not his fault, really.  He hasn’t actually done anything...but...”  
   
Gabe’s chest filled with nervous energy.  “I can make that happen.”  
   
“No.  Don’t be mean,” she sighed.  
   
“Fine.  I won’t even be mean.”  
   
“Gabe!”  
   
He dodged her reach, as he headed toward the back of the house.  He ignored her calling after him as he strode damn near into Cassie’s chest, stopping abruptly.  Dean was only a step or two behind, shitty grin in tow.  “Hey.  Mutt and Jeff.  Got something for us to do.”  
   
They stepped closer together, giving him a surprised look.  He stepped up close to keep things quiet.  
   
“Anna wants Douche-jacket gone.”  
   
They both exchanged surprised looks.  “Done,” Dean answered immediately.  
   
“What happened?” Cas asked.  
   
“Nothing happened.  He’s a douchebag!  She wants him gone.  He’s leaving.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “How do you wanna play this?  Toss him in the trunk?  Shit.  Mine’s full.”  
   
Cas rolled his eyes.  “Would Sam take him?”  
   
“Probably.  Mom’s gonna be pissed though.  She likes him.”  
   
“Not if Anna says otherwise,” Cas said off-handed, not concerned.  “You and Sam could take him back.  Or I’ll go.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “Sam and I will escort him.  Now I just have to figure out how to tell the dick he’s leaving.”  
   
Dean grinned.  “Allow me.  It’s my place.”  
   
Gabe grinned.  “Anna said not to be mean,” he warned.  
   
Dean looked like he had just lost his balloon.  “Fine.  No, not fine.  I can’t promise anything.”  He shrugged.  “Anna will just have to forgive me later.”  
   
Gabe looked at Cas.  “Your boyfriend is kinda awesome.”  
   
“I know,” Cas answered flatly.  
   
Jo cut off Dean’s exit, getting all their attention instantly by the look on her face.  “Were you guys just talking about Teddy?”  
   
“Yes,” they all answered.  
   
She popped a hand onto her hip, looking soooo like her mother.  “I have to tell you something about him.”  
   
   
*********************************************  
   
   
Sam rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he followed Dean down the stairs.  “You sure about this?  I don’t think it’s a good idea to piss off Anna AND Naomi!”  
   
Dean turned around, stopping so suddenly Sam ran into his brother and backed up a step.  “She said he has to go.”  
   
“She said she wished he wasn’t here!  That’s not the same as pulling a Hoffa!”  
   
Dean bitchfaced up at him.  “I’m not making him concrete knee socks, Sam!  You’re just escorting him home!”  
   
Sam sighed loudly, following him down the steps and out the door.  They had gone through his meager belongings.  They had found nothing suspicious, just two outfits and bathroom supplies.  Gabe insisted it was suspicious, but Sam reminded him he had packed the same things.  
   
As they walked out the front door, Dean met eyes with Benny. It was like a friggin’ showdown.  And only Dean could put one of those together without even planning it.  
   
Teddy was sitting on the hood of rusted out Pontiac, tearing apart a weed he had plucked.  Dean, Benny, Crowley, Gabe, and Jo surrounded Teddy in a semi-circle.  Sam stood just behind Dean and Gabe.  Teddy eyed them all, realizing something was going on.  His cold gray/blue eyes ran along the group as he got slowly to his feet.  
   
“What’s going on?” He asked, hands going into his jacket pockets.  
   
“The nineties called,” Dean said flat with a smirk.  “They want their jacket back.”  
   
Teddy stood up a little straighter.  
   
Shit.  Sometimes it was really hard being Dean’s brother.  
   
“Not funny?”  Crowley asked with a frighteningly cold amusement.  “My dog called, she wants her stick back.”  
   
Gabe lost his hawk like scowl, giving Crowley a bewildered book.  “What?”  
   
Crowley shrugged.  “Her stick.  You know, like the one wedged up his ass.”  
   
Gabe grinned, pointing at Crowley, Crowley pointing back with a knowing nod.  “Funny.”  
   
“Funny,” Gabe grinned with a nod.  He turned back to clueless Teddy, his scowl fully back in place.  
   
Sam shot Crowley a look.  Freakin’ Crowley.  
   
“It’s time to go home, buck-O,” Gabe said more directly.  
   
“Oh look!” Dean grinned, dropping Teddy’s bag at his feet.  “You’re packed.”  
   
Teddy frowned down at the bag, then back at the crowd.  “Anna -”  
   
“Anna’s done with you, buddy,” Gabe went on.  “In fact, here’s what’s gonna happen.  You’re gonna go tell Anna that you have to go.  And I’m gonna drive you to the bus station.  And you’re never going to bother her again.”  
   
“But -” Teddy said dumbly.  
   
“Brotha,” Benny stepped closer to him.  “This is the nice way ta go.  I suggest you take it.”  
   
Teddy’s mouth screwed into a hateful frown before smoothing to something more dead.  “Alright.”  
   
He went to step out of the circle, but Cas stopped him with a stare so icy cold it made Sam shiver.  “I suggest you be very diplomatic.”  
   
Dean leaned closer to Teddy.  “He means make it sound like your idea or we really are going to kick your fuckin’ ass.”  
   
Teddy nodded, moving slowly passed them.  
   
“I’ll be in the car,” Gabe said coldly.  It was so unusual to hear Gabe be so threatening.  And Cas.  The whole ordeal had Sam slightly on edge.  He suspected they were overreacting, but he might have missed something.  
   
Sam watched as Benny followed Teddy to where Anna and Naomi were sitting with Ellen on the porch.    
   
Sam stepped closer to Jo.  “What the hell happened?”  
   
Jo squinted up at him, the sun getting in her eyes.  “Anna told me he gave her a couple dirty looks today and last night.  Looked at her like she was gross.  She said he seemed so great about it before. But this trip he’s acting like a different person. Like he isn’t interested in her. And like when she needs help it’s a hassle. Anna didn’t want to say anything to her brothers, since they’re more likely to kill him than stop to clarify the situation.”  
   
Sam’s anger spiked anew.  “What the fuck is his problem?”  
   
“No idea.”  She looked toward the house.  Anna had pulled  over to the side, but Teddy had kept the conversation short.  Ellen and Naomi looked confused.  But just one exchanged look with Jo and Ellen had a firmer set to her mouth.  
   
“So, Gabe doesn’t know?” Sam clarified.  
   
“Oh, he knows.  I told him.  Anna had said something to him, sugar coating it.  So, I clarified the situation for him.”  
   
Sam smirked.  Jo would never tolerate any shit from some punk guy.  
   
“Should we all go?” Naomi said, standing up.  
   
“No,” Benny grinned.  “Car is full, Ms. Novak.”  
   
Seeing there was no more discussion to be had, Anna slumped in her chair slightly.  Teddy turned and walked over to Sam’s car and got in the back seat.  Sam headed toward it, Jo headed for the porch.  
   
Sam tossed Gabe his keys, knowing Gabe would be better distracted driving than figuring out a million different ways to kill Teddy.  He got out of the car, going to the driver’s side with a steady stare.  “Bye Mom.  Bye Anna.”  He got in the driver’s seat before either could stop him and question what was happening.  
   
Sam got in the passenger seat.  
   
Teddy barely rolled his eyes when Benny and Crowley stuffed themselves on either side of him, crowding into the small backseat.  
   
Doors shut and Gabe started the car.  
   
Sam glanced over at his angry boyfriend.  “Happy Thanksgiving.”  
   
Gabe huffed.  “Fuck Thanksgiving.”  
   
   
   
***************************************************  
   
   
   
Castiel listened patiently when Anna yelled at him.  
   
“This is exactly what I was afraid of!  You guys totally overreacted!”  
   
“Would you explain why Teddy was just carted off in that manner?” His mom pressed.  
   
“Because I said one little thing!” Anna shouted, hands flying in frustration.  
   
Castiel sat on the couch in Bobby’s living room.  “Anna.  Jo told us what you said.”  
   
Anna threw Jo a scathing glare.  
   
Jo shrugged it off.  “I’m not sorry.  The guy was no good.”  
   
Anna sighed, sitting back in her chair with defeat.  “I was going to handle it when we got home.”  
   
“What did he do?” their mom asked.  
   
“He kept giving me dirty looks.  Like he was...” her chin twitched.  “Like he was disgusted with me.”  
   
“Oh, Anna!” Their mom was at her side in a second.  “Are you sure?”  
   
“Yes.  I wasn’t just being sensitive. He was never like that until this trip. He seemed so good with everything. Boring! But good. Now...and he won’t even say a word about what he thinks of anyone.”  
   
Castiel bit his own reaction back, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation to allow his wrath to show.  
   
“He had to go.  So Dean and I threw together a quick plan,” Jo insisted.  
   
Naomi stood up.  “Thank you, Jo.  And Dean.  I had no idea.”  
   
Dean only nodded, obviously worried about how angry Anna was.  
   
Anna crossed her arms.  “This is a disaster.”  
   
“Please,” Jo waved her off.  “I once dumped a guy for being too nice.”  
   
“True story,” Ellen chimed in.  
   
“I had a guy carried out of my room once and left in the hallway because he snored in his sleep,” Dean added, making Castiel cringe and Anna laugh.  
   
“You’re lying!” She laughed.  
   
“I’m not!” Dean laughed.  “He snored like a train.  I called Crowley and he had him ‘removed’.”  
   
Castiel looked at his mother with a trace of worry.  She glanced at him with a judgmental look.  Castiel made a mental note to slap Dean’s ass for talking about sleeping with another man in front of his mother.  If it weren’t for Anna laughing, he would be angry.    
   
Dean glanced over at him with a wink.  Cas stared back without grinning, making Dean bite his lip and a slight blush color his cheeks.    
   
The look was, per usual, enough to melt Castiel’s heart.  He fought a grin but lost.  
   
“He was a jerk,” Anna stated, looking relieved but slightly tearful.  
   
“Yes, he was,” Jo swore.  
   
“And his hands were clammy,” Anna laughed.  
   
“Ew,” Dean and Jo laughed.  
   
“So,” Ellen chimed in, bringing Anna a tissue, “the boys dropping him off at the bus station?”  
   
“Yep,” Dean nodded.  
   
Castiel sat down, feeling like everyone was going to be fine.  Gabe and the others would be back home soon.    
   
   
Before long, Gabe, Sam, Crowley, and Benny returned.  Gabe walked straight in, dropping to his knees in front of Anna.  The conversation she had been having about drinking tea versus drinking coffee came to an immediate stop.  
   
“Anna,” Gabe said seriously, “I know I’m a pain in the ass about you dating.  And I promise someday I’ll stop.  But I promise you that loser wasn’t worth your time.”  
   
She leaned forward, kissing his forehead.  “I’m not mad.  Thank you for getting him out of here.”  
   
Gabe’s shoulders drooped in relief.  “What a dick!”  He jumped to his feet.  “Who’s ready for dessert?!”  
   
They all gathered around the table, pie boxes, plates, and forks being handed around.  
   
“Did he give you a hard time at the bus station?” Dean asked, pouring coffee.  
   
“Nah,” Benny said softly, sitting next to Anna.  “He jus went on home.”  
   
Anna shook her head, giving Benny a dreamy look.  “You make it sound so sweet.  He got booted out of here and he’s a jerk, Benny.”  She grinned at him, finding his charm amusing.  
   
Benny blushed a little.  “Don worry, cher.  He’s long gone.”  
   
She gave him an appreciative smile, while Gabe and Cas exchanged a look.  Was Benny moving in on their sister?  
   
Dean and Sam exchanged some sort of smile.  A new smile from Dean.  Every day brought some sort of new type of grin.  If he had to label this one, he’d call it The Atta-boy.  
   
Gabe flipped open the lid of his nearest box.  “What the hell?”  He stared down at his beautiful pie, marred and missing an entire piece.  
   
Dean blanched.  
   
“Winchester!” Gabe yelled, pointing a deadly finger at Dean.    
   
Dean put an open palm over his chest, shaking his head.  “I was...starving!”  
   
Gabe glared at him as he flipped open the next box.  
   
Full pie.  
   
Gabe blew out a breath.  “You’re lucky.”  
   
Naomi opened the box in front of her.  A lovely pecan pie.  Missing an entire piece.  
   
“Dammit, Dean!” Gabe yelled.  Both men took off running, tearing through the kitchen and out the back door.  Cas laughed as hard as the rest of them as Dean zig zagged across the yard, Gabe hot on his heels.  
   
“My money’s on Gabe,” Anna giggled.  “He’s so damn fast.”  
   
“Nah, Dean knows the land,” Sam said easily, fully confident in his brother.  
   
   
   
*******************************************  
   
   
Dean blew out a slow, steadying breath as he headed down the stairs.  Cas was standing in front of the window, staring out into the night.  Everyone had gone home.  Even Jo had left with her mom.  They had the house to themselves tonight.  
   
The kitchen was clean.  The lights were out.  And the only thing you could hear were the crickets.  
   
Dean came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him, his chin nestling into Castiel’s neck.  Cas’ head leaned to touch his instantly, smiling and squeezing his hand.  
   
“It’s so quiet here,” Cas said softly.  
   
“Yep.”  Dean slid his chin along Cas’ neck, eliciting a gravelly groan from Cas.  “I made you something.”  
   
Cas turned, watching as Dean pulled his phone out.  He handed it to him, trying to pull off nonchalance but failing spectacularly.  “Just hit play on the first video.”  
   
“What is this?” Cas grinned, looking down at the phone.  
   
Dean backed away as the video started playing.  He did his best to slip out of the room quietly.  He went out the back door, running awkwardly across the yard.  His little run with Gabe this evening had sparked an idea.  He had made Cas a video of the hints to find the car he was going to hide in.  Cas didn’t know shit about cars, making the clues challenging.  But the thought of a good old-fashioned chase had him stiff in his shorts already.  The video Cas was currently watching, was a time waster full of mushy shit he spilled like a fountain.  While Cas stood there getting sweet talked, Dean grabbed a bag of supplies and slipped outside.    
   
As he jogged down another row of abandoned cars, he figured Cas must be at the engine-revving portion of the video.  Dean had gone way out of his comfort zone and made a video of him (rather teasingly) prepping with the plug currently wedged in his ass.    
   
He stuck the next clue in the windshield wiper of a VW bus.  He headed north, farther into the salvage yard, leaving the next clue in a Jeep’s wiper blade.  He found the station wagon he was looking for and went to work spreading out three blankets in the back.  He knew Cas would be hot and hard and fuck his brains out the second he caught him, so he worked quickly, setting up twelve battery operated votive candles and sprayed the whole back of the station wagon with Febreze.  
   
He froze when heard crunching gravel in the distance.  His senses all hyped to high volume when he realized the steps were running.  Cas was so pumped!  
   
He looked down at his clothes, slightly shivering in the chill air.  Should he strip?  He crawled out of the back, shoving his flannel off, leaving him in just a t-shirt.  
   
He bit his lip as a figure rounded the end of the row he was in.  He pulled his t-shirt off, tossing it into the car.  He fidgeted, rubbing his arms as someone came closer to him.  
   
He heard the crunch of gravel drawing closer and his heart started racing.  It was creepy as fuck out here!  He mentally kicked himself for bringing no form of weapon to protect himself with.  
   
Standing at the rear of the dilapidated station wagon, Dean suddenly realized what a risky plan this was.  Bobby’s place was abandoned most of the time.  It would not be too shocking to have trespassers.  
   
He glanced around, grabbing a tailpipe off the ground, holding it like a bat.  
   
It was pitch black out here.  The only light was from the moon and the tiny pinpricks of light in the votives.  
   
Crunching gravel grew louder until the footfalls were impending.  
   
“Dean?”  
   
“Cas!”  
   
Dean ditched the tailpipe, opening his arms to Cas’ enveloping hug.  His thudding heart slowed as the two held each other.  When they both breathed a little easier, Cas held him at arm’s length.  “What were you thinking, hiding in a salvage yard at night?”  
   
Dean stared into his shadow covered eyes.  “I just wanted to tease ya.”  
   
Cas’ arms and vice grip hands relaxed.  “Maybe during daylight.  Or not the day I’ve run someone out of the state.”  
   
Dean nodded.  “Yeah.  Sorry.  I didn’t even think about it until I heard your footsteps and wasn’t totally sure it was you.”  
   
Cas pulled him in again, kissing his mouth with want.  
   
“Sorry I scared you,” Dean managed between kisses.  
   
“It’s okay,” Cas grinned.  “I found you.”  
   
“You did!”  Dean slid his hand down Cas’ jeans to find his semi-aroused dick.  “Not the chunk of granite I was hoping for.”  He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.  
   
Cas’ jaw dropped slightly and he huffed.  “I was a little distracted about your well-being!”  
   
Dean continued rubbing the long stretch of heat, feeling it thicken at his very touch.  “Excuses.”  
   
Cas’ demeanor darkened to just the shade of fucking hot he had been angling for.  “You, Dean Winchester, have been a mouthy brat today.”  
   
The firm words sparked a shift in his attention, his dick jumping and a challenging little grin coming to his mouth.  “I was good as gold today.”  
   
“Really?” Cas growled, backing Dean against the side of the car, hands unbuttoning his jeans.  “You ate my brother’s desserts.”  He rubbed a firm hand over the denim covering Dean’s hard dick, pulling his zipper down.  
   
Dean whimpered with want, his fear a distant memory.  He pushed against Cas’ hand, leaning his back against the car.  “It was so good,” he moaned.  
   
Cas gripped his waistbands, shoving his jeans and boxers to his ankles.  “You were awfully cozy with Benny.”  
   
“No, no, no,” Dean panted, shoving a boot off and letting Cas pull off one pant leg.  “I was not.”  
   
“Mmm,” Cas hummed noncommittally, turning Dean so he faced the station wagon.  
   
He felt like he was being arrested.  Quite naughtily arrested.  “You’re making stuff up now,” Dean grinned, knowing better.  
   
Cas was too distracted with running his hands all over Dean’s hips, ass, cock, and back to bother answering.  “You made dirty videos.”  
   
“So dirty,” Dean admitted, his hips already grinding into Cas.  Cas gripped the plug, swirling it.    
   
“You looked like you were enjoying this plug,” Cas growled into his ear, thrusting the plastic hard enough to make Dean gasp.  
   
“N-not like you!” Dean moaned again as Cas managed to drive the damn thing right against his prostate.  He let out a needy groan.  If there was someone sneaking around the salvage yard, they were about to get a good fucking show.  “Cas, pull it out!  Pull it out!”  
   
“Why?” Cas chuckled, swirling it again.    
   
Dean knew better than to move his hands from the roof of the station wagon, so he gripped harder and arched his back, clenching the plastic.  Cas had a habit of making him say the dirtiest shit.  “Because I want you!”  He bowed his back and arched his ass again.  “Come on, Cas!”  
   
“God, you beg so beautifully,” Cas gasped, biting and sucking hard at a spot-on Dean’s neck.  
   
“Pleeeeease, Cas!” Dean whined, fighting the urge to come from Cas rubbing against him, the plug, and his fucking mouth unraveling him.  “Cas!  Baby, please.”  
   
Cas’ hands slid and the plug came out, making Dean practically collapse.  Cas supported him, his fingers quickly taking the place of the plug.  
   
“M ready!” Dean cried.  “Lube’s in the, the, the car.”  
   
“I know you’re ready.  I’m knuckle deep because I like it there.”  
   
Dean practically howled at Cas’ filthy mouth.  
   
“My fingers not enough?” Cas asked in his ear.    
   
Chills ran amuck all over Dean’s body.  There was no right answer to that question and Cas knew it.  Dean whined instead.  
   
“I asked you a question.”    
   
Dean laughed a filthy chuckle, knowing he could push Cas into the action he wanted.  
   
“Ooohh,” Cas practically sang in his ear, adjusting the way he held onto him.  “Such a brat.”  
   
Dean gasped when Cas’ hand popped against his ass.  Dean wanted more, canting his ass and biting his lip.  
   
Cas left a volley of slaps on his left ass cheek.  Enough that his skin prickled.  
   
“I want more!” Dean finally blurted.  “I want you.  Your cock.”  
   
The word was barely out of his mouth when Dean felt the unmistakable nudge of Cas’ dick against his hole.  
   
“I brought my own lube,” he growled, shoving inside, making Dean see stars.  
   
Dean gripped the roof of the car, grunting and angling his hips to accommodate Cas and soon-to-be fucking.  
   
“I wanna come,” Dean whined, already throbbing.  Cum dribbled and slung from the tip of his neglected dick.  
   
Cas and Dean had sex a lot.  It was typically mind-blowing, and always fulfilling.  Dean soaked up every growl and ass slap he could manage and reveled in the praise Cas always gave him.  He was a total sucker for an ass slapping, being manhandled, and all the sweet talk Cas could muster.  Which was a lot.  
   
Sometimes, when Cas was fucking him from behind, he went as far as covering Dean’s mouth to keep him quiet.  But tonight he must want to hear him.  So Dean let all his moaning and gasping flow loud and clear.  
   
“That what you want?” Cas hissed, pulling back and sliding in.  
   
“Yyyeeess,” Dean gasped, already drunk on Cas.  
   
“This is pretty ornery, Dean, fucking outside in a salvage yard.”  He thrust in and out, making Dean adjust his grip.  
   
“So bad,” Dean panted, willing his body to take every millimeter of Cas’ dick.  “So bad.”  
   
Cas added more lube and began to piston into Dean with loud grunts.  
   
“Fuck, Cas,” Dean swore, panting hard.  
   
“It’s so warm and tight in there.”  Cas pumped hard, making Dean simply hang on for the pounding.  He slowed down again, Dean catching his breath.  
   
“I’m so close,” Dean barely managed in a broken voice.  
   
“So close?” Cas coaxed.  “You gonna come on the car?”  
   
Dean moaned at the thought.  
   
“I know where I’m coming.”  He could hear the grin in Cas’ voice, his pace increasing steadily.  
   
“Where?” Dean gasped.  His mouth hung open, eyes squeezed tight as his orgasm climbed and climbed.  
   
“I’m gonna come deep inside -”  
   
Dean let out an almighty groan as his orgasm rocketed.  “Harder!” He yelled into the night, feeling Cas grip him tighter and fuck him harder. Dean thought he might lose his mind, but his hands stayed on the roof of the car as his orgasm crashed as hard as a tidal wave.  
   
Cas lost his rhythm, fucking as hard as he could manage in their position.  He was groaning and gripping Dean’s hip and shoulder hard enough to bruise when he shoved in to the hilt and cried out, pumping into him so hard Dean writhed against him.  Cas pumped several times through his orgasm until his body finally quieted, clinging to Dean’s back.  
   
“I made us a bed,” Dean laughed, high on endorphins.  “Made a bed.  But no.  You’re so fucking grabby.”  
   
Cas chuckled, kissing the back of his neck, making Dean gasp at the tickle.  
   
“You made a bed?” Cas asked, letting his softening cock slide free.  
   
“In the car, you beast.”  
   
Cas chuckled again, looking into the car.  “Are those candles?”  
   
Dean noticed the little candles had all toppled from their perches along the back of the seat and the windowsills.  Probably from the car rocking so hard against them.  
   
“Yes,” Dean managed, his breath and his voice coming more normally.  “I thought it would be romantic.”  
   
Cas laughed.  “Sorry.  I had to have you.”  
   
Dean grinned, shoving his ass against him, making them both groan softly.  
   
Dean’s teeth chattered from the chill.  
   
Cas looked through the filthy window of the car again.  “Is there a blanket in there?”  
   
“A couple,” Dean chattered.  
   
“Come on.”  Cas helped him get his pants back on and they both crawled into the car.  Cas pulled the thick, fluffy blanket over them.    
   
Dean relaxed into his embrace, smiling at all the sweet little things Cas whispered to him.  To think, a few weeks ago, he could hardly take a compliment.  Now, he ate them up like treats.  Cas loved him.  That much was evident in all he did.    
   
They dozed off in the back of the old station wagon, sleeping there half the night.  They woke in the wee hours of the morning, running into the house like teenagers.  They warmed up in a hot shower and went to bed for a few more hours sleep.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos gang! I’m getting lots of guesses on just who Teddy might be :) Keep in mind that the break in Cas experienced was 17 years ago and Teddy is only 20ish. So...Teddy can not be the intruder that stabbed Cas.  
> But you guys are definitely on to something!!!  
> More to come on Saturday! Then I will post a chapter every day until the end of the fic. I don’t want to keep you in suspense too long! :D


	16. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  Violence and lots of stress in this chapter.  Buckle up, folks!  We’re about to find out who Teddy really is and who the third intruder was.
> 
>  
> 
> It has been two weeks since Thanksgiving.

Chapter 16:  Broken  
   
   
   
Every Thursday, twenty minutes of class was spent on a topic of debate.  Sam called it, ‘Think About It Thursday’.  He loved these lessons.  It was amazing to see how the students grew in their abilities to verbalize their opinions, as the year went on.  Now that it was mid-December, they were much more adept than they were in the Fall.  Today’s topic was, should people have to pay a fine if they do not vote?    
   
Alex and Claire were currently debating, making him grin at their tenacity.  
   
“I know it would get more people to the polls!” Claire said, getting louder, “Stupid people who don’t even think about what they’re voting for!  That’s like saying everyone should drive, whether they are smart enough to or not.”  
   
Alex shook her head, arguing her point further, but Sam was distracted by Principal Mosley hovering in his doorway.  
   
Sam tried to keep an ear to the debate as he came closer to his boss.    
   
“May I borrow you for a moment?” She asked, immediately making Sam feel nervous.  
   
“Yeah!” He glanced at the class, but the group was not even paying attention to him.  He gave Missouri a nervous laugh as he stepped into the hall with her.  “This group gets pretty rowdy with their debates.”  
   
She nodded, smiling at the class.  But the grin quickly faded.  “Mr. Winchester...Sam...I understand you know Castiel Novak fairly well.  You are friends outside of work.”  
   
Sam frowned.  What an odd thing to ask about.  “Uh, yeah.  Yeah, he’s dating my brother.  We’re practically family.”  His grin faltered, seeing the concern in the woman’s dark eyes.  
   
“Well, he never showed up for work today.  Of course, that is extremely unusual, so I called all the numbers I have on file for him and I have not been able to reach him.”  
   
Every word that went by had Sam’s level of alarm rising.  “H-he didn’t show up?”  
   
“No.  I thought maybe he confused a personal day or something.  But he really is a most provident man.  I was wondering if you knew anything.”  
   
Sam pulled his cell phone out of his pocket with shaking hands.  “I, no, I don’t know why he wouldn’t be here.  He should be here.”  Sam was surprised at just how unnerved he was.  Cas did NOT miss work.  He did not mess up personal or sick days.  This felt...bad.  He went into his contacts and called Gabe.  
   
No answer.  
   
Sam wanted to run out the door.  Where was Cas?  Where was Gabe?  He was pretty sure he remembered kissing him goodbye this morning when he left for work at 4am.  He took a deep breath, knowing he was slipping into panic mode.  
   
He called Dean.  
   
No answer.  
   
All of this could easily be explained.  Gabe was at work.  Dean might be distracted and not answering.  Or...the history of Gabe’s break-in made his stomach swirl with anxiety.  
   
He looked up at Missouri.  
   
“Are you alright?” She asked, truly looking worried about him.  
   
“Um...I...” he had no idea what to say!  He could totally be overreacting.  He could be getting as bad as Gabe when Cas doesn’t answer his phone.  But a terrible feeling choked him.  
   
“Sam?”  
   
“I...can I get someone to cover my class?  I’ll just...I can run next door.  My boyfriend works next door at The Cup.  He’s Cas’ brother!”  He wiped sweat from his forehead as Missouri put a calming hand on his elbow.    
   
“Go.  I’ll cover your class.”  
   
Sam hesitated, never having left in the middle of a class before.  But his boss was giving him permission!  
   
“Go!” She said louder, shooing him forward a step.  
   
Sam needed no more prompting than that.  He ran down the hall, trying to call Gabe again.  
   
Nothing.  
   
He burst through the doors, into the cold day.  
   
He called Dean.  
   
Nothing.  
   
He called Cas.  
   
Nothing.  
   
He ran across the school’s lawn and burst through the doors of the coffee shop.  Portia was helping a customer, her serene eyes refocusing at his state as he all-but crashed into the counter.  
   
“Portia!  Where’s Gabe?”  
   
“He...he was here but I guess he left.”  She shrugged, handing the lady in line a tall coffee.  
   
“He was here?  You saw him today?”  Sam immediately felt better.  
   
“Yeah.  But right in the middle of the first rush, he went back to the kitchen to get more cranberry muffins and he never came back!  Balthazar is pissed.”  
   
Sam’s hope drained, leaving him weak in the knees.  “He...just...left?”  
   
“I don’t know.  Ask Balthazar.  He’s in the kitchen.”  
   
Sam went behind the counter and through the door to the kitchen.  
   
Balthazar looked up from hurriedly icing a batch of cinnamon rolls.  “Well!  Where the hell did he nip off to?  I -”  
   
“You don’t know where Gabe is?” Sam cut him off, his anxiety sky-rocketing.  
   
“He was right bloody here, and now he’s bloody not!”  Balthazar’s angry look shifted.  “Wait...what’s wrong?”  
   
Sam staggered back a step.  “You’re SURE he’s not here?”  
   
Balthazar wiped his hands on his apron quickly as he went to Gabe’s office door, opening it.  “Empty.”  He went to the hall, checking the store room and bathroom.  “Empty. Empty.  Sam...is something wrong?”  
   
“Maybe,” Sam admitted.  The second he admitted it out loud, it felt like his gut was full of concrete.  He ran out the side door and along the sidewalk.  Gabe’s car sat where he always parked when he was working.  It was empty.  He ran to Cas’ house as fast as he could.  He hopped the stupid gate that never budged and ran up the uneven sidewalk, up the porch steps, and pulled on the door, banging on it.  
   
“CAS!”  He banged as loud as he could.  “DEAN!”  
   
He shook the door, roaring in frustration.  He paced on the porch calling all three of them again.  What the fuck was going on!  He stared at the door.  He paced again.  Surely Cas, with his history, had not hidden a key anywhere nearby.  He lifted the mat.  Nothing.  He picked up a pot by the door.  “Jesus, Cas.”  There was a key.  Both frustrated that Cas would do something so predictable, and thankful it was there, he unlocked the door.  
   
His breath caught.  His heart skipped a beat.  His mind reeled.  
   
Oh fuck.  Oh fuck.  Oh...fuck.  
   
He called 9-1-1.  
   
9-1-1:  9-1-1, is this an emergency?  
   
Sam’s jaw trembled.  “Break-in,” he barely managed.  “I need to report a break-in.”  
   
   
*********************************************  
   
   
(Thursday 2:15 am)  
   
Castiel sat up in bed.  He thought he heard something.  
   
He did that a lot.  
   
And his house was drafty and creaky, and most noises could be easily explained if you listened hard enough.  He strained his ears, listening hard.  
   
Another light thud had him gripping Dean’s arm, waking him up.  
   
“What’s -”  
   
“Shh,” Cas whispered, turning to Dean with urgent eyes.  “I heard something!  Downstairs!”  
   
Dean sat up slowly, staring at him.  “Are you having a nightmare?”  
   
“No!  Shh!” Cas whispered harshly.  
   
Dean turned to look toward their bedroom door.  They both sat there until Dean lay back down.  “Want me to go check?”  
   
“No.”  Cas shifted on the bed, sliding out.    
   
Dean sat up, realizing he was getting up.  
   
“I’ll just go look around,” Cas whispered.  “Maybe it was squirrels.”  
   
Dean sighed, getting out of bed.  “I’ll get up too.”  
   
Castiel felt bad waking him up but he had to be certain.    
   
Dean started dragging his feet toward the doorway.  
   
Castiel followed him.  They went down the few steps and into the hall.  Dean turned into his writing room.  Castiel waited at the door as he looked out the window and headed back to him.  
   
Together they headed back into the hall around the corner facing the stained-glass window.  They quietly made their way down the stairs.  Castiel worried that someday Dean would get sick of his antics.  This was not their first tip-toe trip around the house in the wee hours of the morning.  They moved quietly around the second floor, hearing nothing.    
   
They made their way down the stairs to the bottom floor.  Dean checked the front door, finding it locked.  Cas sighed, going into the empty dining room.  
   
The walls had been painted.  The graffiti was gone.  Dean had refinished the floor, surprising Cas with beautifully finished hardwood floors in the entry way, dining room, and hall.  They were finally as beautiful as the professionally repaired living room floor and stairs.    
   
Dean had brought his old table and chairs from South Dakota.  They were small and shabby for the now polished and beautiful dining room.  But they had already had some wonderful meals together there.  Dean and Cas walked around it easily, heading into the kitchen.  
   
The clock on the wall ticked steadily and Cas felt a tiny bit relieved by it.  As if time marching on was somehow a sure sign things were copacetic in his world.  
   
“Ow.”  Dean stumbled a step.  “Fuck.  I just stepped on something sharp.”  
   
Cas immediately went to the back door, flipping the lights on to see what Dean had stepped on.  If the clock ticked another beat, Cas never heard it.  When the light came on, Castiel saw broken glass in the window of the door.  
   
The door was unlocked.  
   
He spun back to Dean, who was squinting at the light and picking up his bloody foot.  He heard a step as a man stepped into the hall, his arm raised.  
   
Cas lunged forward, pushing Dean out of the way as the crack of a gunshot tore through his home, his dreams, his hopes of a happy, safe future.  
   
He and Dean crashed to the floor, Cas clambering off Dean, who was barely a beat behind him.  
   
They scrambled, Cas shoving Dean toward the dining room, away from the gun.  As Dean staggered into the room, Cas grabbed a knife and rolling pin from the drying rack, throwing them at the gunman.  The rolling pin hit the man hard in the chest, the knife flying past him to skid down the hall.    
   
While the burglar was distracted with the hit to the chest, Castiel dove for the dining room.  “Run!” He yelled.  Dean ran for the front door, stopping so suddenly in the doorway to the entrance, that Castiel ran into him, making Dean grunt with a sputter.  
   
Castiel screamed, seeing a man standing there, still as a statue, knife handle in his hand.  The rest of the knife was in Dean’s abdomen.  
   
As the man turned to look at Castiel, he flashed back to his childhood.  He’d stared into these cold blue eyes before.  Sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, smirk.  The lack of humanity.  The frigid emptiness of his soul.  It was the same man who had stabbed him and Anna so long ago.  He gaped in absolute shock.  
   
“Castiel.  We meet again.”  The man smirked, his ludicrous grin in opposition to the brutal way he wrenched the knife from Dean’s body.  Blood blossomed, growing like a demonic rose against his white t-shirt.  
   
Dean looked up at him in shock.  “Run!” He gasped, his knees collapsing as he dropped to the floor.  
   
“NNNNNOOOOOOO!!!!!” Castiel screamed, lunging for the nightmare in front of him.  He punched with everything he had, missing the quick intruder.  His hand connected with the doorframe, the snap of bones barely registering as he swung quickly with his left hand, hitting the man hard on the collar bone, making the man stagger back, trip over Dean and sprawl across the floor into the dining room.  
   
Castiel chased the falling form, but the man was quick.  He rolled and ran toward the kitchen, Cas on him step for step.  They shoved past the table, spilling into the kitchen.  Castiel caught him, the pair slamming into the counter, dishes crashing to the floor.  Castiel grabbed a plate, hitting the man so hard over a knee that it broke.  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               
   
They spun, throwing each other from one surface to the next.  It wasn’t real!  It couldn’t be! Surely it was impossible to see those eyes again!  
   
The man got hold of Castiel’s shirt, slamming him against the corner of the wall to the hallway, laughing.  He was laughing!  
   
Castiel grappled and shoved, desperate to stop the man any way he could.  He jabbed with his elbow, hearing a muffled choke from his attacker.  Getting out of the man’s grip, he whirled and backed up to gain footing.  The man glared at him as he rubbed his throat.  “I’m disappointed in you, Castiel.  I thought you’d -”  
   
Cas lunged again, not caring what the man was saying.  The man staggered back as Castiel landed a solid punch to his head.  He stepped forward, landing another punch to the man’s side but stopped at the sight of the gun back in the man’s hand.  
   
Cas backed up as the man panted, laughing brokenly as he got his breath and watched him like a hawk.  
   
“That’s more like it!”  
   
Castiel backed another step, hands lifting in resignation.  He turned, seeing blood on the floor in front of the dining room doorway.  But no Dean.  He looked back at the gunman.  
   
“You remember me, don’t you,” the man grinned.  
   
Castiel swallowed hard.  He nodded.  
   
The man grinned wider, eyes rolling as he waved the gun haphazardly.  “I knew you would.  I’m charming that way.”  
   
Castiel stared at the man in utter confusion.  He seemed so unaffected by what was happening around him.    
   
“You tried to tell them.  But no one listens to little kids, do they?”  He frowned in mockery.  
   
“Wh-who are you?  What do you want?” Castiel stammered, stepping back again.  Even though he recognized those soulless eyes, he still didn’t understand what exactly was happening.  He looked like Lu.  But Lu was in prison.  “You got out of jail?”  
   
He grinned, his chin lowering as his eyes stayed trained on him predatorily.  “I never was in jail.  They didn’t cage us all.”  
   
Castiel’s fears gripped him tight.  He had been right.  There was a third robber.  He had been right to fear for his life all this time.    
   
“I figured we’d, ya know, hang out!”  The man grinned again.  “I’ve been looking for you.  The only one who actually knew I was there!”  
   
Castiel watched as Dean came around the corner behind the gunman as silently as a shadow and as pale as a ghost.  
   
“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, keeping the crazy man distracted.  
   
“I meeeeaaan, you said there were three of us!  And there was!  But you were the only one who realized it.”  He shrugged exaggerated.  “Pays to have a twin.”  
   
Castiel licked his lips slowly, trying to follow the words as Dean crept closer.  
   
“Vince and Lu got put in jail.  Took all the blame.”  The man nodded with a proud grin.  “Lu’s a good brother like that.  But I’ve been busy!  I was looking hard for you.  And your brother.  And sister.”  His eyes narrowed with his spreading grin.  “You changed your name.”  
   
Castiel licked his lips again, fear held tight in his throat.  
   
The back door opened, making the man turn, seeing Dean behind him.  Dean froze, then started to jump at him but stopped short at the gun that met him square between the eyes.  
   
“Wow!  Scared me!”  He laughed, waving the gun for Dean to join Castiel.  
   
Castiel held an arm out, relieved Dean was on his feet and not shot. The disappointment on Dean’s face melted into pain as he shuffled over.  Caught.    
   
Castiel grabbed Dean as soon as he was close enough.  
   
Neither said anything, just gripping each other’s hand tight.    
   
Another version of the gunman walked up behind him.  “Hello, Nick.”  
   
“Lu,” Nick smirked.  His eyes met Castiel’s again.  “Oh, that cage couldn’t hold the likes of us any longer.  Lu got out yesterday, thanks to me.  And Teddy, my son.”  
   
Understanding started to sift through Castiel’s mind.  “Teddy is your son?”  
   
Nick laughed evilly.  “What a plan, right!  Yeah.  I tracked down little Anna.  Teddy wormed his way right into her good graces.  And her home.”  
   
Castiel’s skin felt a shade colder with every fact the man dropped.  
   
“Then your home.”  
   
Lu put an arm over his brother’s shoulder, staring at Cas just as wrathfully.  “When we finally knew where all four of you were, we knew it was time to spring me from my little cage.”  
   
Castiel knew his mouth was hanging open, but the reality of what stared him in the face was too shocking to keep any kind of decorum.  
   
“Where’s Anna?” He asked faintly.  “Where’s my mom?”  
   
The brothers exchanged a look that Castiel dare not try to interpret.    
   
Paralyzing fear clenched his chest.  “What did you do?”  
   
“Well, they’re being...collected,” Nick grinned.  
   
Castiel glanced at Dean, seeing a steady, murderous look in his scowl.  There was no play here.  Nothing to do but wait for a move to present itself.  
   
“What do you want?” Castiel demanded, anger coursing through him.  
   
“What do I want?” Lu spat.  “How about my life back.  Thanks to you and your brother identifying me, I’ve been in jail.”  
   
“You tried to KILL me!” Cas yelled.  
   
“But we didn’t!” Lu mock-yelled back at him.  
   
Castiel froze.  There was no reasoning with these monsters.  He shook his head, his stomach roiling with rage.    
   
“Shall we move this party?” Nick asked his brother, as if they were finding seats at the theater.  
   
“Let’s,” Lu grinned.  
   
“You two can quit all that fucking grinning,” Dean threatened.  
   
“Ah,” Lu stepped forward.  “The boyfriend.”  He turned to his brother.  “Bring him along? Or leave him behind?”  
   
“Hmm...” Nick folded his arms in, tapping the gun to his chin in thought.  Castiel wished it would discharge in the bastard’s face.  “I say we bring him along.”  
   
Lu shrugged.  “Okie dokie.”  
   
Dean clenched Castiel’s hand tightly as Lu stepped forward, pulling something out of his pocket.  They stared at the rag now in his hand.  
   
Lu tossed the rag at Castiel, making him catch it reflexively.  “Add some of this and put your man down for a little nap.  Takes a few minutes to really sink in, so, hold it nice and tight over his nose and mouth.”  
   
“What?” Castiel asked, hardly understanding what was happening.  
   
Lu tossed him a bottle next.  “Just add the chloroform and your boy-toy goes night-night.”  
   
“I...” Castiel looked between Lu and Dean.  
   
Reading the situation a mite quicker than him, Dean turned to look at him.  “Better asleep than dead, I guess.”  He held a hand out for the rag.  He was guarding his stab wound and Castiel feared Dean was bleeding too much.  There was  so much blood on his shirt and pajama pants.  
   
“Dean...”. Castiel turned to the twins with a plea.  “Please just take me!  Dean had nothing to do with the break-in!  He had nothing to do with your jail time.  Please let him go!”  
   
The laughter was enough to make Castiel want to strike them dead.    
   
“Don’t hurt my boyfriend!” Lu mocked.  
   
“Here, Cas,” Dean said quietly, clenching his jaw only slightly.  Dean let go of his hand, offering it out to take the rag.  
   
Castiel handed it over and opened the bottle of chloroform, meeting Dean’s eyes.  
   
Dean threw the rag at Lu’s face, making him grab for it, blocking his eyes temporarily as Castiel threw chloroform at Nick’s face, making him jerk away.  
   
Dean attacked a fraction ahead of Castiel, both rushing the brothers.  A tussle of ups and downs ensued.  He fought as hard as he could until Nick’s dropped gun was grabbed by Lu and Cas had to step back.  He couldn’t fault Dean for losing his scrimmage with Lu.  Dean was already stabbed and bleeding.  Now he sported a bleeding lip and was on his knees from a punch to the gut.  It was more than anyone with a stab wound could take.  
   
Seeing the gun pointed at his face again, he knelt slowly.  “Please leave Dean here.  Just...leave him alone.”  It was a heart wrenching beg into two faces of matching cruelty.    
   
Dean, wincing, shook his head no.  He leaned precariously and Cas slid over to catch him.  He looked up at the twins desperately.  “I’ll do anything!”  
   
Lu bent over to retrieve the rag from the floor, tossing it back to Castiel, who caught it.  It already stunk of chemical fumes.  
   
Nick pulled his shirt off, wiping chloroform from his face and hair.  If Cas read him correctly, he had gotten at least a whiff of the noxious scent.  
   
“Time to pack up the car,” Nick muttered, losing some of his mirth.    
   
Lu’s eyes seemed to glint malevolently.  “True.  We can put them to sleep in the trunk.  Cozy.”  He grinned wickedly.  “Walk to the car like good dogs and I won’t stab your boy-toy again.”  
   
Castiel nodded, starting to ease Dean off the floor.  
   
“Both of you,” Lu growled, no amusement to brook his evil glare.  He took the chloroform and rag back.  “NOW.”  
   
Dean grunted, getting his legs under him better.  “M okay, Cas,” he huffed.  
   
Utter bullshit and Castiel knew it.    
   
He cradled Dean into his arm and headed to the back door where Lu motioned with the gun to go.  
   
Castiel’s eyes skirted every surface as they walked through the kitchen.  He could attack Lu again.  He might be able to get the gun.  But he might not.  And one or both of them would surely get shot in the process.  Tears stung angrily at how helpless he felt.  All his careful preparations were useless.  
   
Lu and his brother were winning.  
   
As he went out the back door and down the few steps to the back of a waiting car, he felt a surge of panic.  He’d rather die here than endure some kind of torture.  And if he were already dead, surely they would just leave Dean alone.    
   
“Cas,” Dean choked, his head lolling onto his shoulder.  The stab wound was taking its toll on Dean.  
   
“Dean!”  Castiel knew he had to take a stand now or subject them both to unknown cruelty.  He kissed the top of Dean’s head, smelling leather and apple.  The love of his life. His eyes closed as Nick went around them to open the trunk of the car.  Castiel smelled the metallic scent of blood mixed with Dean’s essence.  His eyes opened and he took a deep breath.  He could -  
   
Lu’s arm encircled his neck neatly, tight in an iron grip.    
   
Cas fought to breathe, letting go of Dean to fight off Lu.  
   
One minute was all it took.  His world went gray, sideways, then black.  He felt his knees weaken but never felt the fall.  
   
   
   
*****************************************************  
   
   
Sam’s fingers threaded back into his hair.  He slumped heavily onto the kitchen table.  This had been Dean’s table.  The very one that he helped him pick out and they had laughed at Dean finally growing up and getting a real table instead of the crappy used one he’d had moved from place to place.  
   
“I’m adulting, Sammy!” Dean had laughed.  “I just might have to buy a set of dishes instead of the mismatched shit I’ve been using!”  
   
Sam opened his eyes, staring at the wood grain.  Beyond the edge of the table, he could see the disaster in the kitchen.  Dishes were all over the floor, some broken, some not.  Things on the counter were shoved askew and the floor was littered with broken dishes and broken glass.  And blood.  
   
Sam had never felt so scared in all his life.  
   
Even when his parents died, Dean had been there.  He’d never been alone like this.  
   
“Sam,” Jody Mills said kindly, a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Let’s do this at your place.  We really can’t stay here.”  
   
“Why?” Sam asked, sliding to an upright position.  “They don’t want me in the middle of their crime scene?”  It was a ludicrous thing to say.   But he felt unhinged.    
   
Jody had been there when his parents were killed.  She had pulled him over for speeding once.  She had given talks at the school before.  He knew her.  Not great, but well enough.  
   
“Come on, Sam.”  She patted his shoulder, encouraging him to move.  
   
He stood, like a zombie.  Two police officers were working together to set up numbered markers next to a dribble of blood while another took a picture of it.  
   
Jody pressed him forward, around the pair.  And the blood.  Officers stood at the back door and front door while another walked over to a neighbor’s house.  
   
Sam had been careful not to disturb what he had found once he figured out the house was empty.  He had run from room to room, yelling, searching.  But the house was empty.  Nothing but the blood and signs of a fight left behind.  
   
“Jodes,” one of the cops said softly, stopping them.  “I’m gonna need his shoes.”  
   
“Right,” Jody said, looking up at him.  “They need your shoes for evidence.  To clear your shoe prints from the others.”  
   
Sam stared at her a moment.  His brother’s life might depend on a shoe tread?  He pulled his shoes off, handing them to the blonde cop.  “Thanks, hon.”  She put them into an evidence bag and started writing on the bag as Jody steered him through the foyer and out the front door.  He could not stop looking at the blood on the floor.  There was a smear of it on the hall wall.  Little markers dotted the hall and kitchen.  There seemed to be a lot of interest outside the back door as well.  
   
Sam let himself be directed out of the house, down the sidewalk, around the stubborn gate, and into Jody’s cruiser.  He stared, brokenly, at the flashing lights on four squad cars around Cas’ house.  They drove to Sam’s house and she went inside with him.  He wandered into his kitchen and sat at the table as Jody checked the house.  
   
She came into the kitchen with a sigh.  “There’s no sign of a break-in here.”  She pulled a chair out and sat down, pulling out a pad and a pen.  “Sam, what do you think happened?”  
   
Sam stared at her vacantly.  “I think someone killed my family.”  
   
Jody pulled back, giving him a worried look.  “Who would want to hurt them?”  
   
“Well...Dean had a lot of bad publicity.  Some radical fans.  Amara.  But...I don’t think it was that.”  
   
Jody jotted down a few things, looking up at him openly.  
   
“I think it was whoever attacked Gabe and Cas when they were little.”  
   
Jody frowned.  “Tell me more about this.”  
   
Sam went into all he could remember about the robbery.  She nodded and listened and took notes.  
   
When he was done, she closed the notepad and waved in the blonde cop that had been waiting at the doorway for a few moments.  
   
“Sam, this is Officer Donna Hanscum, my deputy sheriff.”  It was the same cop that had taken his shoes.  
   
“Howdy,” she grinned, shaking his hand with a warm smile.  She looked at Jody with a raised brow.  
   
“You can tell us what you know so far.  I’ve known Sam long enough to know he had nothing to do with any of this.”  
   
“Okie dokes, well, what we know so far is that someone was stabbed just inside the dining room.  The pool of blood there indicates they were there several minutes before walking or being carried through the dining room, kitchen, then into the hall where they were for some time.  Things get pretty confusin’ in that hallway there.  But then the blood trail goes back through the kitchen and out the back door.  It stops abruptly.  We think they got into the back of a vehicle.  We’re running tread analysis on some dirt tire tracks left behind on the driveway.  We’ve got several shoe prints and footprints.  Best guess, two men left the house in bare feet plus another two in shoes.  But that’s just a guess.”  
   
Sam perked up at that. “So, Dean and Cas walked out of the house?  That means they’re both alive, right?”  
   
“Maybe,” the officer nodded.    
   
“Donna, I have some names and info to be run.  I’m going to stay here with Sam for now.”  
   
“You betcha,” she said sweetly, patting Sam’s hand and taking the notepad as she stood.  
   
“Thank you, Donna, officer,” Sam stammered, allowing a glimmer of hope to wheedle into his mind.  
   
“I’m gonna do everything I can to bring your family back to ya, Sam.”  She nodded confidently, making Sam’s eyes brim with tears.  
   
“Anything at Gabe’s house or The Cup?” Jody asked.  
   
“Nothing at the bakery other than the reports of him disappearing mid shift.  And the front door to his house was broken into.”  
   
Sam’s fears reared again.  
   
“They took some prints, but no word on anything yet.”  
   
The two cops nodded at each other and Donna left.  
   
“Sam,” Jody said quietly, “is there anyone I can call?  Anyone you can call?  I really don’t want you to be here alone.”  
   
Sam’s chin trembled.  Dean.  Gabe.  Cas.  That’s who he would call.  How could they all be gone?  
   
“Sam?” She coaxed, putting her hand on his forearm “Uh...Benny.  Crowley.  Uh...I should call Jo and Ellen.”    
He choked back a cry, pulling his phone out.  He called Crowley as Jody got up to give him some privacy, busying herself making them some tea.  
   
The phone rang.  “Samuel!  To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
   
“Crowley,” Sam choked, tears running hot, “something bad happened to Dean.”  He sucked in a gulp of air, trying to keep himself together.  “Can you come here?”  
   
“What’s going on, Sam?”  
   
“He’s...missing.  There was a break-in at Cas’.  He’s missing.  And Cas.  And G -”. Sam swallowed sharply, wiping tears away again.  “And Gabe.”  
   
“Bloody hell!”  
   
Sam looked up, seeing the only other person he ever put in a parental role in his life.  
   
“Sam.”  Benny stared down at him looking like...well, like he’d lost his best friend.  
   
Sam lost it.  
   
Benny took the phone, hugging Sam to him, talking to Crowley, but all Sam knew was his whole world was crumbling and he couldn’t do shit about it.  
   
After a few moments Sam never wanted to recount again, he pulled himself together, letting Benny hold his weight and pet his head.  “We’ll get ‘em back, Sammy.  Yo cop friends are already all ova the place.”  
   
Sam nodded against Benny’s chest and pulled back.  Benny pulled out a chair, sitting at the table with him.  
   
“I went to Dean and Cas’ place.  Dean hadn’t answered my calls all day, so I figured I’d make sure he ate lunch, in case he was writing and not payin’ attention to the time.  There was cops everywhere.”  
   
Sam nodded.  “I was gonna call you.  Things just got...” Sam shook his head feeling miserably lost.  
   
“Tea?” Jody asked, sitting two cups on the table.  
   
“Please, ma’am.  Did you tell them about Teddy?  I neva did trust that little bastard.  Didn’t like the way he looked at any of the Novaks.  Specially Anna.”  
   
“Who’s Teddy?” Jody asked, bringing a third cup over.  
   
“Some guy dating Anna, Gabe’s sister.  Oh God...I gotta call them.”  Sam picked his phone up again.  “They’re gonna be so freaked out.”  
   
“You can hold that call,” Donna said, coming back into the kitchen.  “Jody, I just got off the phone with the FBI.  They called the station just a bit ago.  Gabe’s sister and mother are missing as well.  It’s a crime scene at their house and it sounds most definitely related to our boys here.”  
   
“Oh my God,” Sam sat back.  “Anna...Naomi...”  
   
The cops exchanged a look and Jody got up.  “I’ll be right back,” she said, following Donna from the room.  
   
Sam looked at Benny in shock.  “What the hell’s happening Benny?  Why did they all get taken except me?”  
   
Benny’s blue eyes were sharp.  “I don know, brotha.  But we’re gonna find out.  One way or another.  Crowley will be here by tomorrow.  If we don know more by then, we’ll take mattas into our own hands.”  
   
Sam clenched his fists into his hair, leaning onto his elbows.  “They have to be okay.  They have to.  Why, Benny?  Why would anyone want to hurt them?  Any of them!  Gabe...”. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing reality to change.  Willing fate to bring them all back.  Willing God to intervene.    
   
 


	17. Brotherly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: High stress, violence, torture situations.  
> Death of a side character.

Chapter 17:  Brotherly  
   
   
   
Sam leaned against his kitchen counter.  His house was a zoo.  Two men from the FBI had arrived early this morning.  Sam had already been interviewed twice.  Benny once.  And the entire Lawrence police department had been through his kitchen and had at least one mug of coffee each.  
   
They milled about with radios crackling and papers shuffling.  He knew they were doing their best, Jody would accept no less, but nothing was happening.    
   
No Gabe.  No Dean.  No Cas.  Not a word.  Anna and Naomi were still missing. He had paced the house off and on all night.  He was sure Benny had not slept a wink.    
   
Sam looked up when a man approached him.  “Sam Winchester?”  
   
“Yeah,” Sam managed, clearing his throat.    
   
“I’m special agent Henriksen.  I worked the case in Illinois involving the home invasion with the...Novaks.”  
   
Sam took in the stern demeanor of the older man.  His hair was silver, in contrast to his dark skin.  It gave him a distinguished look.  “You’re the coat guy!”  Sam grinned, standing more upright.  “Gabe talked about you.”  
   
Henriksen’s dark eyes lit for a second before his face settled into a sad smile.  “He was just a kid.  Scrawny.  But he did CPR on his brother like a full-grown adult.  Followed every word I said.”  A haunted look passed through his eyes.  “It was one of the most violent home invasion cases I ever worked.  It’s what made me go on to the Bureau.”  
   
Sam curbed the irritated thoughts in his mind.  If the man had done a better job, they wouldn’t be going through all this.  But he nodded.    
   
“Have a seat, Sam.  I want to explain some things we have learned.”  
   
Sam sat down, catching Benny’s watchful eye.  He came into the kitchen further.  “This is Benny.  Friend of the family.”  
   
“Longtime friend?” Henriksen asked, eyeing him suspiciously.  
   
“Since he was six,” Sam explained.    
   
Henriksen nodded, pulling a file out of a briefcase.  He laid it on the table, his hands folded over it.  “Gabriel’s last name is not Novak.  Did he tell you that?”  
   
Sam felt a cold chill.  “No,” he answered quietly.  
   
Henriksen opened the file and slid over a newspaper clipping.  “Gabriel Milton was not at home during the invasion 17 years ago.”  
   
Sam tuned him out, taking the article in his hand.  Front page.  A photo of a bloody hallway like something out of a horror movie graced the inky black and white page.  He scanned the article.  Milton.  Milton.  Castiel Milton.  Anna Milton.  Naomi Milton.  Gabriel Milton.  Their real names.  Not the names he knew.  
   
“Naomi changed all their last names to match a church member who helped them.  James Novak.  He was never in the picture, and they moved, changing their name at the same time, dropping all ties there.  The name change and move was enough to lose them in the system for a while.  And with everything so quiet with both men in jail, there was no need to keep track of them.”  
   
Sam looked up at the agent, handing the article back.  “Why are you telling me this?”  
   
Henriksen went on, ignoring his question.  “This is Lu Jones.  Jones isn’t his real last name either.  We gave it to him because he never would give one to us.  We know nothing about his family.  Vince Vaughn, his accomplice says they met at a concert and just started hanging out.  They climbed the criminal ladder together with drugs, theft, auto theft, then escalated to attempted murder during the last robbery.  Vince was killed in jail shortly after the trial.  Word was, he was going to roll on some information to get a better cellmate.  But we’ll never know.”  
   
Sam stared at the pictures of the two men.  Vince had long, stringy hair.  Lu looked fairly clean-cut and he had a grin hovering just beneath the placid look on his face. But there was an evil vibe even through the picture.  
   
Henriksen pointed a finger at the picture of Lu.  “Cold, cold bastard.  Didn’t even seem to care he was going to jail.  And he had quite the career behind bars as well.”  
   
Sam glared at the photo.  “Cas still swears there were three men involved.”  
   
Henriksen nodded.  “We shoulda believed him.  And I always suspected.  I still do today.  But we have a more serious problem.  Lu was broken out of prison on Wednesday.”  
   
“What?!”  Sam’s blood ran cold.  “Why didn’t anyone warn us??”  
   
Henriksen nodded.  “By the time word got to the bureau, the police reports were already coming in about Anna, Naomi, Castiel, Dean, and Gabriel.  I think we overlooked a serious possibility.”  
   
Sam huffed.  “That there actually WAS a third man.”  
   
Henriksen put the picture of Vince away and pulled out a report from the Illinois police department.  “The crime scene at Castiel’s bothers me the same way the original crime scene years ago bothered me.  Too many foot prints.  Too many fingerprints.  Too many to just be one person.  We had the same problem when we dug into the home invasion.  It’s like Lu can be two places at once.”  
   
Sam stared at the picture of Lu.  “What are you saying?”  
   
“I think Lu has a twin.  Twins, identical ones, have nearly identical fingerprints.  If they had the same shoes, even clothes, on, then they would have been easily confused in the already confusing situation.  But in all the time Lu’s been in prison, he’s never cracked once.  We know nothing about his family, other than he has some daddy issues and no mother to speak of.”  
   
Sam snorted.  “That narrows it down.”  
   
“Exactly.”  He shuffled the report and Lu’s picture back into the file, pulling out another paper.  “According to the crime scene notes at Naomi’s, neither of their fingerprints were found.  Instead, we found prints for this guy.”  He slid out a picture that made Sam and Benny both lean back.    
   
“That’s Teddy!  The guy Anna dated and brought to Thanksgiving!”  
   
“That bastard,” Benny said in a tight, deadly tone.  
   
“Teddy?  We got no name on him.  Just this photo from a convenience store robbery six months ago.  This picture with his prints.”  
   
“Theodore Neilson,” Benny growled.  “Dean said he didn’t trust the guy.  And Cas and Gabe looked him up, but that ain’t the picture that was with the name.”  
   
Henriksen was texting rapidly.  “I’ll look into it.  Thank you both.  I knew these two crimes had to be related, but I couldn’t figure out how.  Let’s see what we come up with now that I have a name.”  
   
Sam sighed.  He felt exhausted.  
   
Jody came into the kitchen looking as tired as he felt.  The agent and sheriff exchanged a friendly nod.  “You might want to hang on a minute.  I just got several updates.”  
   
Henriksen gave her his full attention.  “We got the blood sample back.  All the blood seems to be Dean’s.”  
   
Sam sucked in a breath, fighting to hold himself together.  
   
“We found a bullet hole in the kitchen wall.  We’re running ballistics as we speak.”  
   
Sam’s gut clenched.  
   
“That isn’t the worst of it.”  She gave Sam an apologetic look.  “We just got a call from Aurora Police department.  Naomi’s body was found behind a strip mall in town.”  
   
Terror spilled through Sam like an injection of ice crystals.  Where were they?  What was happening to them?    
   
“Sam,” Benny said softly, taking Sam’s wrist in a grounding grip.  He turned to Jody with a pleading look.  “Any word on Anna?  They were together, weren’t they?”  
   
“As far as we know, they were together,” Jody confirmed.  “But nothing else was found.  They said the body was dumped there.  Anna could be...anywhere.”  
   
Sam, shaken to the core was having trouble focusing.  His mind was racing.  
   
“Everybody out.  Can’t you see you’re overwhelming him?  Bloody hell.”  
   
Sam gasped at the figure in the doorway.  Crowley.  Black suit and hella-scowl.  The room emptied except for Benny.  
   
Crowley gave him a little grin.  “There.  No one can think with that much brass in the room.”  
   
“Crowley!”  Sam stood, hugging him.  He and Crowley weren’t really the type of friends to hug...but times being what they were, he needed every bit of strength he could get.  
   
“Jeez,” Crowley barked, stepping back, directing Sam back into the chair, “I’m used to scraping your brother off the floor.  I can’t handle a crying moose!”  
   
Sam scoffed a tearful laugh, wiping his face.  
   
“Benny,” Crowley sighed as he sat down.  
   
“M glad yo here,” Benny said quietly.  “They’re no closer to knowin’ anythin’ than they were yesterday.”  
   
Sam sighed.  “Henriksen is on it.  And the cops here are doing all they can.  Jody and Donna are working nonstop.”  
   
Crowley nodded.  “No word of any kind?”  
   
“None,” Benny answered solemnly.  
   
“Mm.”  Crowley tapped his fingers on the table.  “I’ve got people.  In some shady places, if you know what I mean.  I’ll see what I can do.”  He got up, walking out of the kitchen with his phone in his hand.  
   
“Isn’t he a publisher?” Benny asked.  
   
“An editor.  And Dean’s other best friend.  I wouldn’t cross him if I could help it.”  
   
“Glad he’s on our side,” Benny nodded.  “Come on, Sammy.  It’s time you get some sleep.”  
   
Sam groaned.  “I can’t.”  Visions of Naomi made his hands shake.  
   
“Come on,” Benny said more sternly, getting up.  
   
Sam followed him out of the kitchen and through the living room.  
   
Donna was standing at the front door talking to Jody in a low voice.  “Tox screen came back with chloroform.  Looks like they were taken alive.”  Both women clammed up as Sam came closer to them.  
   
“Chloroform?” Sam asked.  
   
Donna winced, looking exhausted.    
   
“We’ll get you the second we know more,” Jody encouraged, nodding for him to keep moving.  
   
Sam wanted to fold, right there on the spot.  He wanted this all to be over.  But he let Benny drag him up the stairs and into his room.  He sat on his bed as Benny pulled the drapes to darken the room.  Sam plugged his phone in to charge, checking for the millionth time that his ringer was on loud.  
   
“Just lay down a bit.  I’ll be on look out,” Benny said softly.  
   
Sam nodded, laying on his side.  He couldn’t even look at Gabe’s side of the bed.  Naomi was dead.  Where were the rest of them?  
   
   
*****************************************************  
   
   
Dean blinked his eyes. He kept nodding off.  Or passing out.  It was hard to tell the difference.  He was sitting on a chair, feet tied to the legs, arms tied behind his back, tape secured over his mouth.    
   
He looked around the dismal room.  Nothing had changed.  Cas sat in a chair a good ten feet away in the same state he was in.  Minus the stab wound.  
   
He blinked his eyes harder.  Did Cas have that black eye last time he looked at him?  Maybe he had missed something.  
   
Cas hung in his chair like Dean did, exhausted. Hurting.  Terrified.    
   
Facing Dean, in a dog kennel, was Gabe.  Handcuffed, his feet bound, and mouth taped closed.  He hadn’t moved in a long time.  But Dean knew he was alive.  He could see his back press in and out of the bars ever-so slightly as he slept.  Lu had gotten him from work at the bakery while he and Cas were unconscious in the trunk of the car.  Two more chairs sat empty.  He figured they had to be for Anna and Naomi.  He hoped it was a good sign they weren’t here yet.  
   
They were in a house, in the basement.  It was unfinished with concrete floors and cinderblock walls.  Three tiny windows at ground level were blocked by boxes and junk.  The wall behind Cas held a huge board that had papers taped to it.  It was where Nick and Teddy had been doing their planning.  There were pictures and papers about the prison Lu had been in.  More papers in another section about Anna, Naomi, Gabe, and Cas.  He couldn’t read the small print, only the larger words here and there.  
   
The basement was chilly and damp.  The only time the light was on was when Lu or Nick came down.  They liked to come down and listen to themselves talk.  They’d pick on one of the three of them, rattling them all, until they grew bored and went back upstairs.  He could hear them move around above them.  He had no idea where they were, but the house belonged to Jack.  Whoever that was.  
   
Dean’s head lifted at the sound of the locks being opened at the top of the stairs.  Dean and Cas exchanged worried looks.  Every visit was painful for one of them, if not all of them.  
   
The door opened.  
   
“Who cares?” A familiar voice said irritably.  “No one saw me!”  
   
Lu came down the stairs with a sigh.  “If you ruined this,” Lu threatened.  
   
“I didn’t!”  

Dean’s eyes grew wide.  He was shocked to see Teddy come down the stairs and sickened to see Anna’s limp body over Teddy’s shoulder.  He glanced over at Cas, who looked like a rabid dog pulling against his restraints.  
   
“Oh shush,” Lu sneered at Cas.  “You knew she was coming, right?”  
   
Teddy put Anna in the chair nearest Gabe’s cage, steadying her while Nick tied her to it.  
   
Cas jerked and tried to yell until Lu back-handed him.  “Shut up!”  He kicked Gabe’s cage, making the man whimper and cower against the opposite side.  He sat up, crouching from the small space, looking at what was happening.  His eyes grew wide through his disheveled hair.  
   
Dean hated these fuckers for doing this.  There wasn’t even a reason for it.  They were evil bastards taking revenge on the family that finally got one of them behind bars.  They were evil monsters.  
   
Dean seethed behind his tape.  He twisted his hands uselessly against the ropes and pulled his feet.  
   
“Looks like Mommy won’t be joining us,” Lu announced to them.  “She was a little too noisy and Teddy was forced to kill her.”  
   
Cas and Gabe both froze, staring at him incredulously.  
   
Dean’s blood ran cold.  
   
Fuck.  
   
Anna shifted slightly, her head lifting partially before falling limp again.  
   
“And,” Lu went on, glaring at Teddy, “because some of us don’t know how to follow a plan.”  
   
“Me?”  He pointed at Dean.  “What’s HE doing here?  That wasn’t part of the plan.”  
   
Lu stared at his nephew coldly.  “You trying to secure your own spot behind the nearest strip mall?  Tell me, should I dump your worthless body behind an Ollies?  Or how about a Dollar store?”  
   
The pair glowered at each other.  
   
“Now, now.  Play nice.  Beat one of them up, not each other,” Nick grinned.  
   
Teddy barely scanned the three of them.  “I’m going to bed.  I was up all night, driving.”  
   
The best Dean could figure, it was Saturday.  They had been taken early Thursday morning.  And none of them seemed concerned that cops were sniffing around.  
   
Yeah.  They were screwed.  
   
The three bastards went upstairs.  Gabe knocked his head against the side of his cage, trying to call out to Anna.  
   
Anna lifted her head slowly.  They had forgotten to tape her mouth.  She saw Dean first, her mouth dropping open.  She turned, seeing her brothers and started crying.  “Oh no!  They got you too!  But...you’re alive!”  She sobbed, wriggling her shoulders in her seat to test the binding.  “They killed Mom!  He just...she screamed.  Almost got away and...he killed her!  I don’t know what happened after that!  He knocked me out... Where are we?”  
   
Cas and Dean shrugged their shoulders.  Gabe tried to say something but it all came out in mm mmm mmm’s.  
   
She pulled in a shaky breath.  “Oh god!  Did they kill Sam?”  
   
Dean shook his head no.  She nodded in acknowledgment.    
   
“This is Lu’s son’s house,” Anna whispered, eyeing the walls and ceiling.  “Teddy was bitching about him.  Says he’s soft and gonna blow the whole thing if Lu doesn’t control him.”  She snapped her mouth shut as the door sounded.  Her head dropped and she didn’t move again as someone new came down the stairs.  
   
Dean watched him as he looked at all of them curiously.  His light brown hair was combed over, and he had a worried frown.  Was this Jack?  
   
Lu came halfway down the stairs.  “What are you doing, son?”  
   
The boy looked up at his dad.  “I was...seeing if they needed water.”  
   
“Aw.”  Lu laughed, glancing at the four of them.  “Bet you are thirsty, aren’t ya?”  He turned back to his son with an irritated look.  “We don’t give them water, you idiot.  We torture them.  Withholding water is one of the perks.  Now get upstairs.”  
   
The boy nodded, following his dad upstairs.  The door locked.  
   
Anna’s head tipped up slowly.  Her eyes filled with tears.  “They’re going to kill us.”  
   
Dean shook his head no.  Cas started pulling at his restraints again.  Gabe curled into a ball on his side, watching Anna.  
   
   
******************************************************  
   
   
Sam took a deep breath.  It was Monday.  His house was crawling with police.  The feds had set up shop in his freaking living room and his kitchen smelled like coffee 24 hours a day.  Henriksen dispatched cops to various leads from the den.  Ellen and Jo were there, sharing the guest room with Benny, who did finally crash and sleep.  
   
But that was nothing compared to the zoo on his lawn.  Media coverage was spreading like wildfire.  Reporters and investigators crowded his lawn and even peeped into the windows.  Mrs. Tran, the mother of one of his AP student’s, had set up a ‘task force’ of her own.  
   
Sam had seen her on TV being interviewed.  She was passionate and tenacious.  And honestly, Sam’s heart was warmed by her words.  
   
“Mr. Winchester and Mr. Novak are two of the greatest teachers at Lawrence High!  We will find Mr. Novak!” She had shouted, backed by a rousing cheer from students he recognized.    
   
All the reporters were having a field day with Dean being one of the missing.  Crowley was handling some of the press, but honestly, he came across more like a crime boss than Dean’s editor.  Mrs. Tran’s base of operations was working out of The Cup, where the town’s people were up in arms that their town’s finest baker and barista had been tampered with.  Poor Balthazar was managing, insisting he felt better being at The Cup than at Sam’s.  
   
The entire town was rallying.  
   
Yet nothing was happening.  
   
Their faces were plastered on every channel and all over the web.  Along with the faces of Lu and Teddy.  
   
There was a national outcry of TV viewers, horror struck at a picture that had surfaced of Anna’s abandoned wheelchair at a Gas-n-Sip dumpster in Gary, Indiana.  Naomi’s death, with her history of being a saintly single mother.  The beloved (though wild) famous author, the school teacher, and the baker.  It was too much for a nation to take lying down.  
   
Mrs. Tran had gone national as well, spearheading a ‘watch your neighbors’ campaign that the police tried to put a damper on, but no one stops Mrs. Tran and her new-found fan base.  
   
The police supported the news, saying the public squeeze would smoke them out.    
   
Sam went nowhere alone.  He was considered a target risk, not fully understanding the reasoning behind the abductions.  He didn’t even sleep alone.  Jo had slept in his room last night.  
   
He watched a replay of news events, shuffled around slightly to make them more interesting.  All he could do was stare at the images and hear the words, “dead” “mad man” “searching” “missing”.  
   
“Sam!”  
   
Sam’s head snapped up and his eyes focused for the first time in over an hour on Crowley standing in the doorway.  Crowley turned the TV off, initiating a rise in panic inside him.  “Hey!”  
   
“There’s nothing new on the news.  Quit staring at it.”  The man sighed, snapping his fingers at Benny, who glared at him mildly.  “We’re leaving.  We’re going for a ride.”  
   
“Where?” Sam asked, feeling shaken.  
   
“Anywhere!” Crowley yelled.  “These people are making me crazy!  And you’re...melting!”  
   
Sam shut his aching eyes.  
   
“Come on, brotha.  Grumpy Smurf has the right idea.  You could use a change o’ scenery.”  Benny got up, nudging Sam to move.  
   
“See?  Even Cajun Chicken has a limit!”  Crowley spun on his heel, weaving through the crowd.  
   
Benny stared after him a beat before looking down at Sam.  “He IS on our team.  Right?  That means I can’t actually strangle him?”  
   
Sam smirked.  “He is.”  
   
“Remind me to have a talk with Dean about his choice in friends.”  
   
Sam nodded.  He hoped he could do that.  He got up, feeling rusty in the knees.  And head.  And heart.  
   
Jody gave him a wary grin from across the living room as Sam followed his entourage out the door.  Jo, seeing the exodus, joined in.  
   
They got into Crowley’s rental car and headed down the road.  
   
   
******************************************************  
   
   
Gabe found a sacred space in his mind.  A little locked room he could go to where there was no one but him and Sam.    
   
Casa Erotica.  A room with a big bed for him to curl up against Sam’s bare chest.  A place where cheesy, non-sensical music played and the room service tray was full of whatever he wanted under the silver domed lid.  Champagne flowed like water and Sam smiled all the way to his chocolate-brown eyes.  His hands ran smoothly along his muscles, rubbing the cramps out.  While there, no one existed but him and Sam.  
   
Massage and water.  
   
Champagne and hugs.  
   
The cage around him shook like the very atmosphere of the world was banging.  
   
“See you soon,” he whispered, kissing Sam.  He stepped out of the room, locking the door hard.  
   
He opened his eyes.  His real eyes.  Crusty and dirty.  
   
“See!” Lu laughed, straightening from the front of his kennel.  “He’s not dead.”  He hit the cage one more time, making a bone-shaking rattle run through Gabe’s body.  
   
Gabe was the only one not handcuffed at this point.  He was the only one locked into a cage.  These sadistic fuckers seemed to like variety.    
   
His cuffs had been removed and the tape taken off his ankles during a particularly brutal beating from Nick and Lu earlier today.  He was sure a rib or two was broken.  He wasn’t going anywhere with the added lock to his cage, so the cuffs had been abandoned.  
   
He didn’t dare pull the tape off his mouth.  Not after how badly they beat Anna for not having any on yesterday.  As if she chose to not have her mouth taped closed.  There was no working with the three men so pleased with finding reasons to beat them.  The best thing any of them could do was nothing at all.  Pray they forgot about them for a while.    
   
He looked at his fellow inmates.  Cas side-eyed him from his chair.  Dean and Anna hadn’t moved in...how long?  How long had they even been here?  Time was a timey-wimey thing.  His eyes fluttered shut.  
   
   
He woke again.  Someone was touching him.  Not hitting.  He gasped a breath, his mouth opening.  His lips burned, but there was no tape on his mouth.  His eyes flew open, meeting the wide, frightened stare of Jack.  He was out of his cage, on the floor, his head and shoulders on Jack’s lap.  
   
Jack blew out a breath in relief.  “I thought you died!  My father would have been so angry at me.”  
   
Gabe gasped another breath, coughing.  He looked around, seeing the wide-eyed stare of Cas and Anna.  Dean’s head hung still.  He pointed at Dean, coughing again.  
   
“He has a pulse,” Jack smiled confidently.  “He’ll be fine.”  
   
Gabe swallowed hard.  “Water.  Please.”  It was a whispered croak.  
   
“Yes!”  Jack smiled.  “I brought you all drinks!  But it’s our secret.”  
   
Gabe nodded along, his mind reeling.  He tried to sit up, but it took some effort.  His insides were full of pain.  His muscles felt like knots pulling on each other, fighting to put him back in a ball.  
   
Jack got up with excitement, leaving Gabe to lie there.  He tried and failed again to sit up.  Jack was back in seconds with a cup of water.  He propped him up against the cage, gingerly giving him sips of water.  
   
That was when Gabe spotted his one and only chance at freedom.  The thin, silver edge of a cell phone in Jack’s back pocket.  He tried to reach it, Jack taking the gesture for a hug, hugged him.  Gabe slumped into it, but his body would not comply.  
   
Jack stood back up, happily.  He made his way around to each of them, pulling their tape off and offering them water.  Dean only coughed.  Jack tried several times, but Dean seemed unable to get any into him.  
   
“Jack,” Cas whispered, distracting the boy’s fretting.  He turned to Cas.  “Could we have food?  Anything.”  
   
Jack stopped to think.  He shrugged.  “I don’t think they’ll mind.  Are you hungry?”  
   
Castiel visibly struggled to keep his composure.  “Very.”  
   
Jack nodded with an innocent grin.  He sat the cup down, pushing Dean’s tape, then Castiel’s back into place.  He turned to Gabe.  
   
“I’ll stay here.  I’m so hungry,” Gabe whispered.  
   
Jack thought about it.  He grabbed the role of duct tape from a stack of boxes and tore a piece off.  He looped it through the bars of Gabe’s cage and taped his wrist into the loop, giving Gabe a nod that it was well done.  
   
Gabe nodded back.  This kid was ten fries and a toy short of a happy meal.  
   
They all watched as Jack went up the stairs.  The second his head was above the open rail, blocked by the floor above, Gabe began unpeeling the tape.  Cas and Anna watched with wide eyes as he scurried across the floor.  He was loose!  He had to get help!  
   
When the door closed, he crawled up the stairs.  His heart beat too hard and his muscles screamed.  He panted and ignored the burning pain inside him.  If he got caught, they would definitely kill him.  
   
He turned the knob, opening the door slowly.  He peeked out into a hallway.  The house was messy with take-out food and trash strewn all over.  He could hear Jack rummaging around in the kitchen to his left, so he crawled right.  The hall brought him to a shady living room with two recliners and a TV playing cartoons.  He could see the front door.  
   
Freedom!  
   
He crawled halfway across the living room when he noticed a stack of mail on a TV tray.  He took the top one.  And the next.  And the next.  They all had the same address.  
   
If he could just...He jumped at the sound of the basement door opening.  
   
Jack would see!  But could he make it to a neighbor’s?  The windows were all covered with blinds.  He could be in the middle of the woods for all he knew!  
   
He scurried as fast as he could back to the basement door and down the stairs as quietly as he could.  Jack was staring at his empty cage, plate in hand.  
   
Gabe came down to the bottom step, seeing Cas’ eyes bulging.  He made a noise and Jack turned, seeing him.    
   
“What are you doing?  You’ll get me in trouble!”  
   
Gabe shook his head no, crawling back to the cage desperately.  If they were going through this hell, who knew what kind of abuse this kid had been through?  Gabe banked on his innocence and taped his wrist back into the loop.  “Sorry,” he gasped.  He was exhausted.  He thought he might have a fuckin’ heart attack from all his exertion.  He cowered from the boy’s angry face and balled up fists.  
   
“You don’t get any food.”  
   
Gabe nodded adamantly.  As if that punishment were just.  
   
“Back in your cage.”  
   
Gabe whimpered.  He would have cried tears if he wasn’t so dehydrated.  “Sorry!” He croaked, coughing.  The coughing fit left him weak and lying on the floor.    
   
“You should be.”  Jack went to Anna, pulling tape partially off her mouth, offering her a bite of a hotdog.  She took it eagerly.  

As she chewed, she whispered, “He’ll be good.  Please don’t tell.”  
   
Jack’s angry face softened.  “Okay.  If he’s good.”  
   
After she ate half the hotdog, he moved over to Cas, giving him the other half.  “Please help him,” Cas managed to choke out, nodding his head toward Dean.  
   
When Jack had secured the tape to Cas’ mouth again, he turned toward Dean.  Gabe surged to his knees.  “I’m sorry!”  
   
Jack turned back to Gabe.    
   
“So sorry.”  He held his arms out for a hug.  Could this kid really be this gullible?  
   
Yep.  
   
Jack softened, coming over to Gabe, hugging him.  He thanked every being there ever was that he had spent an entire summer learning how to pickpocket.  
   
When Jack walked back to Dean, Gabe slid the phone from his torn shirt sleeve.  He silenced it and added a number under one of Jack’s existing contacts.  He opened a message, glancing up nervously.  Dean was mumbling and choking down a bite of hotdog.  
   
“I think you have a fever,” Jack was saying to him.  
   
He texted Sam the address he had seen on the mail with the message: This is Gabe.  Don’t call this number or text it. They’ll kill us.  Send help!  Send help!  
   
He pressed send and exited out of the contact.  
   
By the time he had managed to get a few bites in Dean and some water, Jack turned back to Gabe.  He had the phone tucked into his sleeve again.  Jack walked over to the cage, pointing inside.  Gabe fought every instinct inside him screaming to not get in that fucking box.  But he crawled toward the opening.  He stopped, looking up at Jack forlornly.  He reached up for a hug.  
   
Jack laughed a little, obliging him.  “You’re forgiven.”  Gabe slipped the phone back into Jack’s pocket.  “Now get inside.”  
   
“Tape,” Gabe said, wishing he could not point it out.  But if Lu, Nick, or Teddy noticed it missing, they might beat him to death.  
   
“Oh!  Right!”  Jack went back to the role of tape, tearing a piece off.  He smoothed it onto Gabe’s mouth, pausing to grin at him.  “I think you’re my favorite.”  He pulled the tape off half of his mouth and gave him four bites of hotdog.  Gabe did his best to chew and swallow them quickly.  Jack smoothed the tape into place and Gabe went inside the cage, watching broken heartedly as it was shut and locked.  
   
Jack picked up the things he had brought, turning to all of them.  “Ya know, when my dad came home from being away, he said things were going to be different.  That it was my mom’s turn to be away.  I was sad.  But I’m happy you guys are here.”  He frowned down at the plate.  “I know they hit sometimes, but it’ll get better.”  He looked up at them with a bright smile.  “I’ll try to feed you again tomorrow.”  
   
With a nod right out of a Rockwell painting, Jack went up the stairs, turned off the light, and locked the door.  
   
Gabe collapsed in his cage.  He wished he could tell the others what he had done.  He knew Anna and Cas had seen him do something with Jack’s phone, so hopefully they knew he sent for help.  
   
He hoped they could survive until help arrived.  He closed his eyes as Dean moaned again.  Anna cried.  Cas scrooched around in his seat.  
   
He willed his heart to stop beating so hard.  He tried to control his breathing.  He fought the urge to freak out about the cage.  
   
He unlocked the door in his mind to find Sam sitting on the bed waiting for him.  He climbed into his arms and sighed with relief.  “Sam.”  
   
“I’m right here, Gabe.”  
   
   
****************************************************  
   
By Tuesday, Sam, Crowley, and Benny had taken matters into their own hands.  They hovered around the cops, eking out any information they could.  They were getting nowhere.  Michael and Raphael had been in touch as well.  The loss of their mother had spurred the pair to act.  Crowley quickly enlisted their help to dig a little deeper in Illinois.  
   
After hearing no new information on the brothers, Sam went upstairs to his bedroom, the only place he had any privacy.  Crowley and Benny followed him in.  
   
“So, I’ve got a guy,” Crowley started, not for the first time in all this mess, “who owes me big.  He’s headed to Aurora, Illinois right now to track down the church Teddy and Anna met at.”  
   
“Henriksen already looked there,” Benny noted.  
   
“Ah, like a fed.  My guy is willing to dig a bit...deeper.”  
   
“Whatever it takes,” Sam said, agreeing to anything that might get results.  At this point, he’d be willing to sell his own soul.  Luckily Crowley hadn’t asked for that.  
   
“I mean, the kid had to come from somewhere!” Crowley snapped, pulling his phone out to call the guy.  
   
Sam heard his phone chirp.  He pulled it out, expecting it to be Jo asking what they were huddled up about in his room.  
   
But it was an unfamiliar number.  Sam’s jaw dropped as he read the message.  
   
“Guys!  Could this be real?”  He showed them his phone.  
   
They both stared at the screen in shock.  
   
Crowley snapped his jaw shut.  “It’s fucking real.  It has to be.”  
   
They ran from the room, down the steps, barging into the midst of the cops there.  
   
“Everybody shut up!” Sam yelled.  “I got a text from Gabe!”  
   
Jody came forward, taking the phone in her hand.  She met Sam’s eyes with brooked hope.  Rather than say anything, she pulled her radio off her shoulder, turning away from him.  “Henriksen!”  
   
Plans went into motion so quickly all Sam could do was stare.  
   
He turned to Benny.  “Is it him?  Was that really Gabe?”  
   
Worry fought with Benny’s confidence.  “I hope so.”  
   
“It was bloody him!” Crowley yelled.  “Come on!  I’ve got a chopper ready to take us there.”  
   
“You what?” Sam balked.  
   
“I said I was here to help.  I’ve been waiting for something to shake loose from all this racket!  Let’s go!”  
   
“Jody!” Sam yelled, getting her attention in the fray.  “We’re flying to Kentucky with Crowley!”  
   
She nodded, waving them out the door as she kept talking.  
   
   
***************************************************  
   
   
Castiel took another hit to the face, teetering so hard that his chair fell.  Nick and Teddy righted the chair.  
   
“He’s not even any fun anymore,” Nick complained.  “I waited years for this.  Tell your cousin to get down here and give them water and food.  It’s no fun if they die.”  
   
Teddy stared at Dean a moment longer than he liked.  Cas made noise, wiggling, trying to gain their attention.  
   
“This one’s sick,” Teddy said, pointing at Dean.  
   
Dean was sweating, shivering, and had not been coherent at all today.  It had been hours since Gabe did whatever he did with Jack’s phone.  He hoped he had actually got them help.  If he hadn’t...  
   
“Yeah...he’s about done.  Let’s see what we can -”  
   
A loud, splintering crack was heard from upstairs.  He could hear footsteps everywhere.  
   
Nick and Teddy exchanged a look, Nick dropping the knife he had just picked up, as if he were going to start carving on Dean.  
   
They ran up the stairs.  
   
Teddy came rolling back down them, quickly followed by shouting and SWAT members filing down the steps like a line of ants, Cas started crying.  He had no tears, but the utter relief was beyond him.  
   
The room filled with men with guns, each of them were gently unbound and the tape removed as others stood in protective stances.  
   
“Dean’s sick,” were the first words Cas managed to get out when his tape had been taken off.  
   
“We’re here to help,” the man said calmly.  “We’re helping Dean.  We have all of them.”  
   
“Four,” Cas managed, his jaw trembling as shock set in.  “There’s four of them.”  
   
The man nodded.  “We have all four.”  
   
Cas collapsed into the man’s chest.  He was terrified, riddled with pain, and all he wanted was to be sure Dean, Gabe, and Anna were okay.  But all he could do was let go.  Just let it all go and let these people help them.  
   
They tried to keep him awake, but he just couldn’t hold on any longer.  
   
They were safe.  They were out.  And that was all that mattered.  
   
   
****************************************************  
   
   
Sam thought he might punch the next person who told him he had to wait.  Gabe was in the room twenty feet from where he stood.  And still a nurse was hassling him about next of kin.  
   
“Janet,” Crowley cut in, distracting the nurse sufficiently with his lawyer-like babble that Sam slipped past her and finally made it to the room.  
   
He opened the door slowly when the guard gave him a nod.  “Saw you guys all over the news.  Congratulations, man.”  
   
Sam nodded his thanks to him and shut the door, shutting the world out.  
   
His knees wanted to buckle at the sight of Gabe.  
   
He was dirty and curled into a ball at the top corner of his hospital bed.  
   
His own personal social worker stood from her chair in the corner.  “Sam Winchester!  I’m so glad you’re here!”  
   
He may or may not have acknowledged her.  All he could do or think about was reaching Gabe.  He stopped at the rail, staring at him in shock.  His mouth and face were pocked with tiny tears.  His hair was wild, he stared at him in fear, and he stunk terribly.  
   
“Gabe,” he whispered.  
   
Gabe’s mouth twitched.    
   
“Gabe,” Sam said a little louder, tears streaming down his face.  “I’m here.  I’m right here.”  
   
He wanted nothing more than to hug him, hold him.  But Gabe looked ready to fly away at the lightest touch.  What had they done to him?  
   
“Gabe, it’s me.  It’s Sam.”  He held his hand out, watching in shock as Gabe’s terrified stare melted very slowly to a more normal look.  
   
“Sam.”  
   
Sam’s face crumpled as his heart shattered.  “Gabe, it’s gonna be okay!  I’m here now!”  
   
Gabe’s legs relaxed and he blinked more normally.  His face started to fall but he fought it, looking desperate.  “Sam!”  
   
Sam took him in his arms, holding him tight.  He kissed his head, giving him a steady hug.  
   
“My Sam!”  Gabe took a shaky breath.  “My real Sam.”  
   
Sam had no idea what he meant.  But if Gabe was letting him in, he was taking anything.  “I’m right here,” he soothed, stroking his back, just letting them soak each other in.  
 


	18. Friends With Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing has taken root. Loose ends are tied up. And Dean and Cas find their groove again. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this story through the rough times! You guys are amazing with all your guesses on what was to come! Kudos to you all!

Chapter 18:  Friends With Benefits  
   
   
Dr. Duma patiently listened to Dean’s account of what he and Cas had done that week.  
   
“Dean, it sounds like you are making great strides.  I’m very glad to hear you are back to writing.”  
   
Dean’s knee bounced without his awareness until Cas put a steady hand on it.  He didn’t look at Cas, only sighing and calming the leg.  The other one started jiggling immediately and he sighed with frustration.  
   
“Are you comforted that all three men are in jail and Jack is in an institution?”  
   
“No,” they both answered flatly.  
   
The doctor nodded, jotting something down in her notes.  Dean stared out the window, desperate to make this work.  He’d already flipped out on the lady twice in the past two weeks.  
   
“Did your editor give you any feedback on the work you sent in?” She asked, veering to easier topics.  
   
“Haven’t heard from him.”  Dean fought the pang of worry that thrummed through him.  Crowley always answered his calls.  Always.  And he’d heard nothing from the email he’d sent yesterday and the voicemail he left.  
   
Dr. Duma cleared her throat.  “Castiel, you said you went back to working half days this week.  How was your first day?”  
   
“The first day?”  He grinned in thought.  “There was a ‘welcome back’ banner over my classroom door.  Many students stopped in to say hello.  Even hug me.  It was...good to be around them.”  
   
“And the next day?”  
   
He let out a measured sigh.  “High school students can be unpredictable.  In my second class, a boy asked if my sister had been raped.”  
   
Dr. Duma and Dean both shifted uncomfortably.  
   
“I assured them none of us were molested, but the remark caused a student Gabe and I know well; Claire, she works at The Cup; to hit the boy, getting both of them suspended for a day.  I felt bad the subject is even on their minds.”  
   
Dean took his hand with a little squeeze.  
   
“It sounds like some of your students are very protective.”  
   
Dean and Cas both grinned at that.  “Yes, Claire and Alex in particular,” Cas added, fighting a grin.  
   
“And how was Friday?” She went on.  
   
Cas frowned a little.  “It was better.  I’m ready to be back to work full time.  I think the normal routine will be better for me and the students.”  
   
She nodded with a real smile.  “I’m very happy to hear you say that.  You are both making significant strides.”  
   
Both men nodded at her.    
   
“How are you sleeping?”  
   
Castiel and Dean both exchanged a look.  Cas fielded this one, thankfully.  “I’m sleeping better with the medication.  But Dean refuses to use anything.  With his past of addiction...he doesn’t want to risk it.  And I support him in that.  But...he’s not sleeping well.”  
   
Dean huffed a laugh.  “Cas sleeps maybe four hours.  I’m not starting a drug addiction for four hours of sleep here and there.  I’ll sleep eventually.”  
   
Dr. Duma nodded.  She had already given them tons of information on why sleep is so important.    
   
“Did you try the meditation app I suggested?” She asked.  
   
“No.”  Dean looked out the window again, feeling a squeeze from Cas.  He sighed.  “Fine.  I’ll try it.”  
   
She wrote notes down again.  He often wondered what she wrote.  ‘Dean was less of a dick today,’ would be apt.  
   
She smiled at both of them.  “Is there anything else?  Any moments over the week you want to share?”  
   
Dean shook his head no.  It was a miracle he was here to begin with.  
   
Cas cleared his throat.  “My sister is officially moved in to the condo she is renting from Gabe.  I’m really glad she’s living in Lawrence.”  
   
“Yes!  She is doing quite well, it seems.  Does she appear well to you?”  
   
Dean grinned.  “Anna’s the best adjusted out of all of us.  She got her new chair and she’s driving again.  I think Benny has a lot to do with her feeling safe.  They’re never apart.  He just sold his shrimp shack in New Orleans and is moving in with her.”  
   
Dr. Duma grinned.  “I am so happy for her.”  
   
“She certainly deserves it,” Cas grinned.    
   
“Yes, she does.  You all do.  Well, if you don’t have anything else, I say we wrap this up on a good note today.”  
   
Dean’s body relaxed.  His knee quit bouncing and his stomach unclenched.  He hated talking about his feelings.  He knew he needed it.  Cas needed it.  But it really was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.  
   
   
As they left the office, getting into Dean’s car, neither said anything.  They spent a lot more time like that than they did before.  
   
Quiet.  
   
Not companionable silence.  Not avoiding each other either.  Both locked in their own hell.  None of them were unscathed from the events.  Sam struggled as much as any of them.  But Anna seemed to have dug a way out.  She was the one who spoke at Naomi’s funeral.  She was the one that spurred them to the table to eat over the first few weeks.  She was the one who said it was time to come back to Lawrence.  
   
The four of them spent the first week after the attack in the hospital.  They were all dehydrated, had cuts (some needing stitches), bruises, and needed medication for antibiotics and anxiety.  When Dean, the last one discharged, was finally released, they all loaded into Baby and went to Bobby’s.  It was the perfect place to get away from all the media and the memories.  Crowley ran interference with the police, the feds, and the media.  Benny stayed with them.  Jo and Ellen kept them fed and sane.  It had been an ugly, sad Christmas and January.    
   
At first, all five of them hardly ate or spoke.  It was a slow process, each moving at their own speed.  It wasn’t until Anna made dinner one night and made them all come to the table at Bobby’s that they really came back together as a group.  And Anna had made it happen.  She poked and teased and made them laugh.  She brought up painful memories head-on.  She brought all their scary thoughts to the light of day, made them analyze them, and pieced them all back together.    
   
One of the first evenings she made them talk about the most uncomfortable topics, she started with a doozey.  She asked, ‘When Nick got particularly violent with Gabe, how did that make you feel?’  It was raw and more confrontational than any of them were prepared for.  Gabe threw up, Sam yelled at Anna, Dean left, trashing a car outside, and Cas stood up, slamming his hand down on the table so hard it made her cry, making Benny yell at him.    
   
So, yeah, round one was pretty piss-poor.  But seeing the pain each other was in was more than any of them could bear.    
   
The next day, Dean made dinner.  Everyone gathered in brittle company.  Dean sighed, not looking at anything but his empty plate.  “I wished it were me, Anna.”  
   
Everyone stared at him in shock.  
   
“What?” Anna asked weakly.  
   
Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably.  “You asked how I felt when they beat Gabe that time.”  He cleared his throat again.  “I wished it were me.  I didn’t want to see him get hurt.”  He looked up at Gabe, who had started rocking slightly, Sam putting an arm around him.  “And I was glad it wasn’t me,” he admitted weakly.  “If they had hit me like that I’m pretty sure I would have died.”  Gabe met his eyes, the pair hurt for each other.  “But,” Dean went on, “mostly...it just broke me inside.  I hate them for doing what they did to us.  All of us.”  
   
Gabe nodded agreement.  “I’m glad it wasn’t you,” Gabe whispered.  His eyes darted tearfully around the table.  “I’m glad we’re here.  I didn’t think we were gonna make it out.”  
   
They all nodded, fragile and tense.  
   
“I’m sorry I yelled at you Anna,” Sam said next, fighting back tears.  
   
Anna nodded, wiping a tear away.  “We’re gonna fix this.  We’re gonna get up and move on.  It might take some work, but we’re gonna move on and have happy lives.”  That powerful quality Anna and her brothers shared surged in her tiny frame.  “We’re beating this.”  
   
They all ate that night.  
   
And talked.  
   
And the real healing began.  
   
   
At the end of January, they all came back to Lawrence.  It was a lot to deal with at times.  And there was also a sense of relief in the air.  Nick, Lu, and Teddy were all in jail.  Jack was locked away, getting the help he needed.  They were safe.  
   
   
Crowley broached the subject of Dean writing a book about the ordeal.  That people were dying to know more.  Dean said no.  It was too much.  Too soon.  But they all agreed, if a book was written, they’d do it together.  
   
   
Dean turned into their driveway behind the house.  
   
“Crowley’s here,” Cas said.  
   
“Oh.”  He put the car in park, shutting it off, noticing Crowley on his back porch on his phone.  
   
“Your brothers are here,” Dean added with a note of worry.  He had met Raphael and Michael at the hospital and again at the funeral.  They were sitting on the back porch waiting for them.  
   
Jody’s cruiser pulled into the driveway behind them.  
   
“Shit,” Dean sighed.  It wasn’t unusual for Jody and/or Donna to stop by.  But paired with Cas’ brothers and Crowley showing up?  
   
Cas glanced behind them, giving Dean a worried frown.  
   
They got out of the car.  
   
“Hello, boys,” Crowley grinned.  
   
“Hey, Crowley,” Dean grinned, always glad to see him.  He hugged him with a quick slap to the back.  “What are you doin’ here?  What’s goin’ on?  You didn’t answer my call.”  
   
Cas came up the back-porch steps more slowly.  “Crowley.  Michael.  Raphael.  What brings you here?”  
   
Dean opened the kitchen door and they all went inside, out of the cold.  
   
“We wanted to visit.  We plan on stopping in more often,” Raphael said in his silky, smooth voice.  “How are you?”  
   
“Fine,” Cas nodded.  
   
“Sheriff,” Dean nodded, letting Jody and Donna in the back door as well.  They all gathered in the dining room, standing around the massive dining room table Dean had made at Bobby’s while they were recovering.  
   
“Hey there fellas,” Jody grinned, looking at the three visitors.  “What brings you to Lawrence?”  
   
“We came to see Castiel,” Michael grinned.  Whatever genes the siblings did not share, all four of the boys were suave.  Michael and Gabriel’s voices were more tenors compared to Cas and Raphael’s bass, but all four of them were suave to say the least.  Michael managed an almost flirty grin at Jody.  
   
“Uh huh.”  Jody gave them all suspicious looks.    
   
“You’re the other brothers then?” Donna asked.  “I didn’t meet ya last time yous were in town.”  
   
While Raphael came across more stoic, like Cas, Michael was more personable, like Gabe.  He came around Crowley and Raphael to shake Donna’s hand.  “Michael.  Nice to meet you Officer Hanscum.”  
   
“Well, you too!”  She guarded her smile and took a step back when he was done shaking her hand.  Yeah.  Sometimes Michael’s toothy grins crossed over to the shark side.  
   
“I’m here with some news.  And some questions,” Jody went on, watching all of them.  “I came to give Cas and Dean some news.  But I find it rather interesting that the three of you are here.”  She gave Crowley and the twins a pointed look, “considering how you tried to go around and through the police during our investigation.”    
   
Crowley tipped his chin up in irritable patience.  
   
“I got a call from Henriksen today.  While Lu, Nick, and Teddy were being transported from county jail to the federal prison, their transport was attacked.”  
   
“Attacked?” Dean and Crowley asked.  
   
“Well,” she rolled her eyes, “they had ‘car problems’ and ‘lost’ their inmates.”  
   
Dean swallowed hard.  
   
“Gee.  I hope they find them,” Crowley said, not nearly as upset as was his norm.  
   
“Oh, they were found.”  
   
Cas put an arm around Dean’s shoulders.  
   
“Thank goodness,” Crowley remarked, straightening his tie unnecessarily.  
   
“Yyyyeeahh.  They were dead.”  
   
“Dead?” Dean and Cas repeated.  
   
“Oh yeah.  Shot.  Multiple times.  Five times, to be exact.  Five times each.”  Her eyes traveled back to the visitors.  “You gents wouldn’t happen to know anything about all this, would you?”  
   
“No,” Crowley shook his head, Michael and Raphael matching it.  
   
“Riiiight.  Because vengeance is no free pass to kill someone.”  
   
“No!” Michael and Crowley agreed, Raphael just stood there.  
   
“You fellas happen to have any evidence of where you were when this all took place?”  
   
“And when did this happen?” Crowley asked, feigning ignorance.  
   
Jody pursed her lips, pushing her hands into her pockets.  “This morning.  Around 8:45 am.”  
   
“Oh!” Crowley put his suitcase on the table, opening it.  “I do!”  He pulled out a neatly paper-clipped packet.  “Here you are.  Receipts and credit statements.  Even a few time-stamped photos.  I leave a nice, neat paper trail.”  He grinned.    
   
Jody stared back at him, not grinning, not believing him, and not doing anything about it.  
   
“Thank you.”  
   
“Anytime,” Crowley grinned, closing his case.  
   
“Raphael and I were traveling, I can have the proof to you later today,” Michael grinned.  
   
Jody nodded slowly.  “You do that.  Just...drop it off at the station, please.”  
   
Michael nodded with a grin.  Raphael just waited.  
   
Jody turned back to Dean and Cas.  “Would you like to tell Anna, Gabe, and Sam?  Or do you want me to?”  
   
“You should tell them,” Dean said.  “But we’ll come with you.”  
   
Jody nodded.  “And...where were you two this morning?”  
   
“I was at work,” Cas answered her.  “My students would gladly vouch for me.”  
   
“I’m sure they would,” Jody grinned, her eyes moving over to Dean.  
   
“Uh...8:45, I was at The Cup with Benny and Anna.  Gabe was there too.”  
   
Jody nodded.  
   
“And Sam was at work, before you ask,” Cas added.  
   
Jody grinned, looking down at the floor.  “I’m really glad to hear you were all...”  
   
“Safe?” Crowley supplied.  
   
“Accountable,” she amended with a smirk.  “Come on.  Let’s go tell the others the news.”  
   
   
Anna and Benny met them at Sam and Gabe’s.  When they were all there, Jody told the same tale.  Sam and Gabe slouched in relief, sinking into the couch.  Gabe turned into Sam’s chest, Sam holding him close.  “Jody...just...is this for real?  Are you absolutely sure?”  
   
Jody nodded.  “Nick, Lu, and Teddy are dead.”  
   
Donna watched Crowley and the twins for any hint or reactions, nodding when none of them raised their hands to admit they’d had a hand in it.  
   
Sam took a deep breath, fighting to not lose it.  
   
Anna had her mouth covered with one hand, shock in her blue eyes.  “I can’t believe it.”  
   
Benny squeezed her shoulder.  She reached for his hand immediately, looking up at him.  
   
Cas was sitting in the recliner, Dean on the armrest of it.  He smirked.  Every time he heard it, it got easier to hear.  
   
Anna caught his smirk, sitting back in her chair, a smile lighting her face.  “They’re gone!”  
   
Dean felt Cas’ hand tighten around his hip.  He looked down at him, finding another grin.  “They’re gone.”  
   
A laugh slipped from Cas, making him clap a hand over his mouth.  Dean laughed outright.  “They are fucking gone.”  
   
Sam was rubbing Gabe’s arm as he watched the group from the shelter of Sam.  “I’m just sorry it wasn’t me that did it,” he admitted weakly.  
   
Sam closed his eyes, kissing the top of Gabe’s head.  “It’s over, Gabe.  They’re dead.”  
   
Gabe only looked haunted, but Dean was sure he would come around.  Sam looked as relieved as the rest of them.  
   
“Well, we should go,” Jody said to the group.  “I’m glad you can all sleep a little better tonight.”  She turned to Crowley.  “Think you’ll sleep better?” She asked cryptically, obviously thinking he was involved somehow.  
   
Crowley met her gaze with an easy grin.  “Like a baby.”  
   
She nodded.  
   
“Bye,” Donna waved, a lingering look staying on Michael.  
   
When the door closed, both cops gone from the room, all eyes went to Crowley.  
   
“What?” He shrugged, hands in his suit pockets.  Michael and Raphael stood just behind him like a pair of henchmen.  
   
Dean stood up, hugging his friend.    
   
“Ah, Squirrel,” Crowley said quietly, hugging him back.  
   
“Thank you,” Dean whispered, knowing the twins could hear him.  “Thank you for always being there, Crowley.”  
   
“Like a bad penny,” Crowley grinned, patting his back.  
   
Dean loosened his hug, one hand still clapped to his shoulder as their eyes met.  
   
“Nobody fucks with my friends,” Crowley admitted.  
   
Dean choked back another thanks.  He hugged him again.  “Love you, man.”  
   
“Love you too,” Crowley admitted.  
   
Dean stood tall, swallowing back the tears he fought.  Michael held his arms out with a winning smile.  Dean laughed, hugging him too.  He hardly knew these two.  He turned, shaking Raphael’s hand, realizing Cas was beside him, hugging Crowley.  
   
He’d never ask how he did it. Or who actually did it.  But it was plainly obvious that the three of them had arranged something to happen.  
   
By the time Anna, Sam, and Gabe had hugged him, Crowley was red with embarrassment.  Dean sat on the couch next to Sam, watching the four brothers and Anna talk more amicably than ever before.  They had apologized to Gabe right after the rescue, but Gabe had been in pretty bad shape for a while.  His smiles still weren’t as bright as they used to be.  But tonight, in light of all that had happened, he looked better than he had for a long time.  
   
Sam let out a long breath, staring up at the ceiling.  “I might actually sleep tonight.”  
   
Dean grinned.  “Yeah.  Me too.”  
   
   
************************************************  
   
   
   
Gabe added caramel to the iced coffee he was making, fitting the cup with a lid.  He sat it on the counter, taking Kevin’s cash and making change.  It was March, and winter was winding down.  
   
“Go learn something,” he grinned.  “Here, drop this off for Cassie.”  He put a muffin in a bag and handed it to Kevin.    
   
“Will do!” Kevin grinned back, putting his change in the tip jar.  
   
“And take Alfie with you!”  Gabe turned to Alfie, who was filling a coffee.  “Go ta school, kiddo.”  
   
Alfie grinned, giving the customer his coffee.  “You got it, boss!  See you tomorrow!”  
   
Gabe watched as the kid hung up his apron and left with Kevin.  Balthazar came out of the kitchen with a tray and a grin.  “Doing well?”  
   
Gabe gave his faithful cousin a tired nod.  “Doin’.”  
   
Balthazar filled several trays in the case.  Then put the tray under his arm.  He gave his cousin a look.  
   
“Don’t give me the look,” Gabe griped.  “I’m fine.  Dandy.”  
   
Balthazar scoffed.  “Sure.  Oh, this should help.”  He nodded toward the door.  Dean, Benny, Chuck, and Crowley came through the door.  
   
Gabe grinned.  “This looks like trouble!”  
   
Dean smirked, Benny smiled and tipped his hat, Chuck ducked his head shyly, and Crowley gave him a smug grin.  
   
His family.  He chuckled just at the sight of them.  “What’ll it be, boys?”  
   
They crowded the bakery case, ordering and being a general nuisance.  
   
“Don’t any of you chumps work?” Gabe laughed.  
   
“Writers!”  Dean and Chuck said, touching their coffee cups together.  
   
“Waiting on the writers,” Crowley deadpanned.  
   
Benny frowned.  “I actually do need a job.”  
   
“Aw!” Dean and Chuck slapped his back.  “We got you Benny!”  
   
“What’s going on with the restaurant idea?”  Dean asked.  
   
Benny shrugged, sipping his coffee.  “Not sure I wanna get into somethin’ so time consumin’.”  
   
Dean nodded.  Anna worked from home, and Benny had a nest egg from selling his place in New Orleans.  So far, he was having a good time doting on her.  Even Cas and Gabe couldn’t complain about this boyfriend, making the fit even better.  
   
“You’ll figure it out,” Gabe said, sitting a banana muffin on the counter for him.  
   
“I hope so,” he said bashfully.  
   
“Breakfast is on me,” Crowley grinned, paying the tab.  
   
“Wow, what’s got you so happy?” Gabe asked.  
   
“Dean.”  
   
Dean rolled his eyes.  “I let Crowley’s favorite character live.  He feels special now.”  
   
“She’s pure gold!” Crowley barked.  
   
“The side character?  The bitchy one?” Chuck clarified.  
   
“Yes.  Miss cuddly-as-a-cactus, Meg.  I don’t know why, but he and Cas think she’s just the best thing ever.”  Dean shrugged.  “She lived.”  
   
“The side character became the main character!  It’s beautiful!  I’m telling you, it’s a big deal!”  Crowley threw Gabe a grin.  “Side characters are always more interesting anyway.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “Mysterious pasts, disappear for chapters and come back just in the nick of time!  I see what you’re saying.”  
   
“There,” Crowley sighed, feeling justified.  “An artist.”  
   
Gabe laughed.  He never thought of himself as an artist, but hey, everyone loves the underdog.  
   
   
*************************************************  
   
   
Thursday night was family night.  They got together for dinner once a week.  Tonight had been nice.  They had all gathered at Cas’ house, staying late and talking over, under, and around each other.  
   
Cas felt like the house got warmer when everyone was there together.  They had even video-called the twins to wish them a happy birthday.  Their dining room and kitchen were in good shape.  Anna had given them some decorating tips and between Benny, Dean, and Cas, more and more projects were getting done inside the house.  
   
As Dean and Cas stood on the front porch waving goodbye to Anna and Benny, Sam and Gabe having left to walk home to Sam’s, Dean put his arm around Cas’ waist.  
   
“I can’t wait to tear into the yard,” Dean announced, looking at the half-dead shrubs and weedy, overgrown front lawn.  “I’m starting with the bushes.”  
   
Cas looked around the yard.  “The house is going to lose its mystique.”  
   
“Hello!” The neighbor lady waved to them as she walked by, her dog taking her for a walk more than she was taking the dog for a walk.  
   
“Hi,” Dean waved back.  
   
“Hello,” Cas called.  
   
“I don’t know,” Dean said quietly.  “I think the place deserves to shine.”  
   
Cas nodded.  “I suppose.”  
   
They turned into the house, locking the front door.  Dean had installed bar locks that looked like they had been there for years, black wrought iron bars that slid into place, bolting into the floor.  It made them feel more secure.  The chances that they would experience a home invasion again might be small, but any little thing that helped them sleep at night was an improvement.  The master bedroom also had a lock like this, making the bedroom also a panic-room.  Dean and Benny had also put security cameras at the entrances, which were accessed on their phones.  Sam and Gabe had done the same in an attempt to make everyone feel a little safer.  
   
They finished cleaning up in the kitchen and headed up to bed for the night.  
   
Dean got the first shower.  He took his time, enjoying the hot water.  When he came into the bedroom in just a towel, Cas looked up at him from the bed.  He was lying back, reading a magazine.  
   
“Really?” Dean chuckled. “Didn’t know you were a Cosmo reader.”  
   
Cas lay the magazine aside.  “I took it from some giggling girls in seventh period today.”  
   
“Mr. Novak,” Dean chided.  “Don’t you encourage reading in your spare time?”  
   
“Huh.  Not this.”  He stood up, pulling his shirt off.  
   
Dean dried his hair off, combing his fingers through it as he tossed his towel in a hamper.  “Did ya give them detention?”  
   
Cas shook his head with a grin.  “No.  You seem preoccupied with my ability to give detention and demerits.”  
   
Dean came over to him with a smirk, kissing him.  “What can I say?  Mr. Novak can give me detention any time.”  
   
Cas chuckled into his kiss.  He headed into the bathroom for his turn to shower.  
   
Dean, not bothering with pajamas, added a log to the fire and lay on the bed.  Mr. Novak was gonna get schooled when he got his ass back to bed.  Dean was feeling more than frisky.  
   
Their sex life, after the dip it had taken following the break-in, had recovered with a lot of romantic, sweet lovemaking.  The pair had needed the healing.  Dean, comfortable with his new scar, and Cas long beyond caring about his own, had only slightly gotten back to the more playful sex that had brought them together months ago.    
   
Dean picked up the magazine, seeing it was open to a test.  He smirked at the picture of a woman with a blindfold on and a seductive tilt to her mouth.  ‘Cuff or Be Cuffed?  What kind of lover are you?’  
   
Dean’s brows jumped a little.  Hmm.  He grabbed a pen from his nightstand and started taking the test.  He already knew he would rather be cuffed, but the questions were fun to think about.  
   
By question ten, his dick was half hard and he was staring at the post at the end of the bed, remembering some pretty damn good fuckings.  
   
He glanced over at the bathroom door, still closed and the shower still running.  
   
According to Cosmo, he was submissive brat.  
   
Curious, he got up, pulling on a pair of jeans, socks, and a t-shirt.  He went to his writing room and opened his computer.  He found another test to take.    
   
   
   
************************************************  
   
   
When Castiel came into the bedroom, he was slightly surprised to see Dean was gone.  Sometimes he would get up and start writing again.  As he pulled his jeans back on, he hoped this wasn’t one of those nights.  He had been hoping for some time in bed with Dean.  He pulled a shirt on, intending to find Dean and lure him back to bed.  
   
He noticed the pen on the magazine and picked it up.  
   
Oh damn.  A knowing grin spread on his lips.  Dean had taken the test he had been looking at.  Some of the answers he had marked had him coming to full attention.  
   
Kiss me....d, on the back of the neck  
Best kisses....b, stolen  
I like it best when....d, my lover takes control  
I get hot and bothered when my lover says....c, you’re in trouble.  
Your lover asks you to do a strip tease....d, what kind of trouble would I get in if I said no?  
Your view on punishment is...a, yes please!  I’ve been naughty!  
Your ultimate fantasy involves...c, feeling totally powerless, but safely held.  
   
Submissive brat.  That was his Dean for sure.  
   
So...where was his brat anyway?  
   
He went to Dean’s writing room, leaning in the doorway.  Dean was at his laptop with a rapt expression on his face, biting his lower lip.  
   
Castiel grinned at the sight of him in his glasses.  Unable to fight his urges, he went into the room, hugging Dean from behind.  
   
“Did I ever tell you how ridiculously hot you are in your glasses?”  He swept his mouth over the soft skin on Dean’s neck, kissing it as it raised in gooseflesh.  
   
Dean turned his head, kissing Cas’ forehead with just the corner of his mouth.  “YOU are ridiculous.”  
   
Cas was going to say something to try and pull him away from his writing, but he caught what Dean was looking at on the screen.   “What is this?”  
   
Dean cleared his throat.  “I’m taking a test.”  
   
“What kind of test?”  
   
Dean blushed, reaching to close his laptop.  
   
Cas stopped him with a chuckle in his ear.  “I really want to see your answers.  Mr. Winchester.”  
   
Dean looked at him with a shy grin that shifted to something more brazen.  “I was reading that Cosmo -”  
   
“I know.”  Castiel stole a kiss then stood up tall.  “I graded your test.”  
   
Dean let the laptop stay open, tilting his head away.  “So, how did I do?”  
   
Castiel put his hands in his pockets.  “I liked your answers.”  
   
Dean beamed, turning back to his test.  “Figured I’d take a better test and see what it says.  We kinda started to get into this kind of thing before...”  
   
Castiel nodded, much like a teacher does.  “Go on then.”  
   
Dean bit his lip with a grin.  “Alright.”  He turned back to the screen eagerly, reading aloud.  “The thought of being owned by another person makes me...  
A.  Hopeful.  Just have to find the right one.  
B.  All hot and bothered.  
C.  Giggle.  No way!  
D.  Confused.  People actually do that?”  
Dean re-read all four answers as Cas watched him.  He bit his lip when Dean’s mouse hovered between the first two.  He clicked ‘All hot and bothered’.    
   
Castiel’s eyes slipped shut.  After he and Ishim had broken up and Gabe had questioned him rather harshly, he began to investigate his own short-comings and frustrations with the failed relationship.  Trust had and would always be a major factor for him.  That aside, his frustrations lay mostly in the bedroom.  Ishim was bossy and tended to top.  It rubbed Castiel the wrong way.  The struggle for power was fairly evident.  Especially when he began reading about dominants.  He certainly wasn’t ready for a BDSM club membership or play parties, but he had a much better understanding of what he wanted.  And what he wanted his partner to want.  
   
Dean was perfect.  In more ways than he had ever hoped for.  
   
He watched as Dean went through a few more questions.  He kept his hands firmly in his pockets.  Otherwise, he was sure he was going to grab Dean and bend him right over the massive desk.  
   
Dean looked up at him as the circle went around, calculating his results.  Castiel gave him an approving grin.  He was beyond relieved that they were both back to where they had started in their relationship.  The only difference now was, he was so in love with Dean that trust and respect were solidified.  He no longer had to worry.  He knew he was Dean’s world.  And Dean knew he was his.  
   
The little ding and picture of smirking woman in a short, plaid skirt with the tag - submissive brat, popped up.  
   
Dean was, by his test results, a brat.  That made Castiel grin every time he thought about it.  But this test gave more information, which was exactly what he knew Dean to be.  A bedroom-only submissive, which was fine with him.  Outside the bedroom, Dean was every bit the equal in power.  It was only in the bedroom that he wanted that power challenged and ultimately taken.  And he learned some things as well.  Dean seemed interested in ropes, handcuffs, spanking, and being put in his place or scolded (but thankfully no wish for humiliation).    
   
“It says I’m a brat,” Dean smirked.  “Just like the last test.”  
   
Castiel put his hands on Dean’s shoulders as he read over the description given at the end of the test.  “Does that please you?”  
   
Dean drummed his fingers on the big desk that had been Bobby’s.  “I guess.  I mean...it fits.  Am I weird?”  
   
“No,” Cas assured him, kissing the top of his head.  “Please don’t think of what we do together as weird.  I like certain things...you like certain things...and it seems we like to give what the other likes to get.  It’s a well thought out way of having sex.”  
   
Dean sighed.  “I don’t want it to be formal though.  Some of the questions talked about contracts and about planning scenes.  I don’t want to do that.  I just...” he huffed a laugh, “apparently I want my ass beat.”  
   
Castiel fought to not grip Dean’s shoulders tightly and throw him onto the desk right now.  He pulled in all the control he had, leaned down to Dean’s ear and said in a smooth, deep voice, “I promise you’ll get what you want.”  
   
Dean shivered, making Castiel grin.  “I always do,” Dean smirked, then blew out a breath as Castiel kissed Dean’s neck lightly.  He stood up, Dean rolling his shoulders, exhaling slowly.  
   
“We are in an established relationship.  We don’t need contracts.  It’s not like we’re meeting up at a club.  Just know, Dean, that your trust means everything to me.  I want to please you.”  
   
“I’m not hard to please,” Dean chuckled.  He scrolled down, then back up, glancing over the information.  “I don’t know...maybe I am.  I never trusted anyone to act like this with me until I met you.  I mean, I wanted to bottom for a long time, I just never felt comfortable enough with someone to try it.  You made me comfortable right away.  I knew you would take care of me.  You wouldn’t make me feel like less of a person.  Or less of a man.”  He looked up at Cas, his eyes so green and open.  “I’m more than happy with...us.  What we’ve done.  What we do.  I’m just not into...contracts or acting like a servant.  Or a piece of furniture.  I don’t judge.  It’s just not for me.”  
   
“Me too,” Cas said softly.  “And I understand you want spontaneity in the bedroom, but there are a few things I want you to know.”  
   
Dean turned sideways in the chair, listening raptly.  It was so different than the first time Cas had wanted to talk about these things.    
   
Castiel licked his dry lips.  “I respect you.  I have a lot of respect for who you are and what you want, in and out of the bedroom.”  
   
Dean looked away.  
   
Castiel was not having that.  He moved in front of Dean, squatting down to his knees, waiting until Dean met his eyes.  “Do you believe me?”  
   
Dean nodded.  
   
“Do you trust me?”  
   
A tiny grin flitted across Dean’s lips.  “Yeah, Cas.”  
   
“So...you want to explore some bondage?”  
   
Dean’s grin dropped as his cheeks got pink.  “Quit talking like a teacher.”  
   
Castiel smirked.  “Ropes?”  
   
Dean’s hand slid over his face briefly, blushing heavily.  
   
If Dean was not comfortable saying what he wanted, Castiel realized he still needed to proceed carefully.  “What if we use the stoplight system.  I will ask you what color you are.  Red means stop what we’re doing and change activities.  Yellow means you aren’t too sure about it, change activities or adjust what is happening.  Green means continue.”  
   
Dean nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact this time.  
   
“Would that be more comfortable to you?” Castiel asked gently.  
   
Dean nodded again.  “Yeah.  Yeah.  That works.”  
   
Feeling much more confident with Dean’s sincerity to this plan, he relaxed, letting a warm grin spread across his face.  “Please tell me any time when you don’t like something.  I promise it won’t ruin things.  It will only make the entire experience better.”  
   
“Alright,” Dean nodded, reaching out to run a hand down Cas’ cheek tenderly.  
   
This was good.  He could see excitement and curiosity in Dean’s eyes.  A smile he had not seen for a while.    
   
“If I’m the sub,” Dean said, his brow furrowing softly, “I still want to be able to...take control sometimes.”  
   
Castiel pulled Dean to his feet.  “Dean, subs have all the control.  I can’t do anything unless you give me permission.  If you yellow or red light, it is my job to find a new way.”  
   
“Huh.”  Dean nodded.  “I see.”  
   
Castiel allowed some of his bossier tendencies to roam in his head.  He wanted nothing more than to order his little brat to bed.  
   
“Do I get a safe word?” Dean grinned wide.  
   
Castiel laughed.  “Yes.  I suppose we should do that too.”  
   
“My safe word is ‘keep going’.”  
   
Castiel froze.  Laughed hard and pulled Dean toward the bedroom.  
   
“No?” Dean laughed.  
   
“It’s a mite confusing,” Cas chuckled.  
   
“I think it’s pretty explanatory.  But okay.  How about...Han Solo?”  
   
Castiel shoved him into the bedroom playfully.  “No.  I just might have my dick planted somewhere, and if you mutter another man’s name...I’m going to get pissed.”  
   
Dean laughed, pulling his shirt off.  “Fine!  How about Sandy Topple.”  
   
Castiel froze, staring at Dean.  “The local weather lady?”  
   
Dean shrugged with an impish grin.  
   
“No!”  
   
“Soooo picky,” Dean sighed with a teasing grin.  “Okay, I got it.  Deeper.”  
   
“Dean.”  
   
“More?”  
   
Castiel crossed his arms over his chest.  “This is quite serious, Dean.”  He fought off a grin.  Dean truly was a brat.  
   
Dean stuck his tongue out at him as he kicked his shoes off.  “Butterbeer.”  
   
Castiel lifted a brow.  “Is that your word?”  
   
“No!” Dean laughed.  “I love butterbeer!”  
   
Castiel watched him as he pulled his own shirt off.  “Mine will be ‘mango’.”  
   
“Mango?  What did mangos ever do to you?”  
   
Castiel shrugged.  “It’s a very neutral word.”  
   
Dean pulled his jeans off, his eyes lingering on Castiel’s hands as they undid his own belt.  “Neutral words,” he mumbled distractedly.  Castiel turned fully toward him, unbuttoning his jeans a little slower.  “Like beige.”  
   
Castiel grinned.  “I suppose beige is pretty neutral.”  He pulled his zipper down, not missing the peek of pink tongue that slipped out to slide along Dean’s lips.  
   
Their eyes met.  
   
“I’m having trouble concentrating,” Dean admitted.  “Um...not beige...uh...I can’t imagine ever wanting you to stop whatever it is you do to me.”  
   
Castiel sighed, pulling his fly apart to slide a hand inside and slowly rub his own dick.  
   
Their eyes locked.  
   
“I need a safe word, Dean.”  
   
Dean’s jaw dropped a little.  “You’re really fucking good at this.”  
   
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”  The challenge was set.  Dean looked like he might turn in a circle for what to do.  
   
“Okay!  Uh...sparrow.”  
   
“Sparrow,” Castiel repeated.  
   
Dean licked his lips, sliding into bed.  
   
Castiel nodded, taking the rest of his clothes off slowly.  He walked toward the bed, stopping at one of Dean’s discarded shoes.  “You made a mess.”  
   
Dean’s eyes looked as green as spring grass.  His mouth was partially open and his chest heaved slowly.  “Yeah...”  
   
Castiel kicked the shoe out of his path with the flip of a toe.  Dean’s eyes followed the shoe’s tumble.    
   
“That’s one.”  
   
Dean’s eyebrows lifted and he fucking grinned.  He laid back on the bed with a smug look on his face.  
   
Castiel fought the grin that tugged at his lips.  He gently kicked a sock.  “Two.”  The other sock.  “Three.”  
   
Dean licked his lips, glancing at the floor.  
   
Castiel bent to pick up Dean’s jeans, tossing them.  “Four.”  
   
“Shit,” Dean huffed in nervous excitement.  
   
Castiel crawled onto the bed, right over Dean’s outstretched body and stopped.  “Four, Dean.”  
   
Dean bit his lip.  
   
“What’s your safe word?”  
   
“B-, uh...sparrow.”  
   
“Sparrow,” Castiel whispered.  “Mango.”  
   
Dean’s breath caught as he stared up at him in frozen expectation.  “F-four what?”  
   
Castiel devoured Dean’s mouth, loving how he arched off the bed for more.  After only a few dirty, wet drags of his tongue, he stopped, pulling out of Dean’s reach above him.  “Roll over.”  
   
“Maybe I’m good just like this,” Dean taunted, barely hiding how much he wanted to roll over for him.  
   
“Five.”  
   
Dean’s breath caught again and he rolled over.  Castiel watched as he rolled beneath him, with just enough room to get by.  As soon as Dean’s chest was on the bed, Castiel kissed the back of his neck, grinning at the moan it got him.  
   
“Hands stay under your pillow,” Cas said low in a threatening tone.  
   
“It’s your pillow,” Dean smirked, glancing back at him.  
   
“Six,” Cas said in his ear.  He grinned as Dean grinned, wisely saying nothing back.  
   
“On your knees.”  
   
Dean moved under him, rising to his knees, making Castiel’s body come in full contact with Dean’s.  “So good,”  he murmured, biting gently down Dean’s shoulder and spine until he sat up on his knees, Dean’s ass bared to him.  
   
He slid his hands along Dean’s ass cheeks, running the pad of his thumb over Dean’s hole.  “What is your color, Dean?”  
   
Dean chuckled, probably feeling awkward with the new things they were doing.  “Green.”  
   
Castiel grinned, slapping Dean’s ass.  “One.”  It was fairly light.  Dean let out a muffled sound of pleasure, wiggling his ass slowly.  He slapped the other cheek a bit harder.  “Two.”  
   
The wiggling stopped and Dean moaned a little again.  
   
He swatted his cheek again.  “Three.”  
   
“Mmm,” Dean whined low.  
   
“How does that feel?” Castiel asked, rubbing his cheek on the opposite side.  
   
“Like dumping my whole hamper on the floor,” Dean said.  
   
The next two smacks were harder, leaving pink marks.  “Four.  Five.”  Dean’s breath caught and he ground his dick down, getting no friction.  
   
Castiel watched with a growing need.  He popped Dean’s ass again.  “Six.”  
   
Dean whined, choking on a breath, his ass swiveling again to find contact with nothing.  Castiel sank back onto his heels, licking Dean’s hole as he braced his hips with his hands.  
   
“Aaahh,” Dean gasped, then ground back onto his mouth gently.  “Fuck.”  
   
Castiel licked more thoroughly, sliding down his perineum and back to his hole with a loud moan of pleasure.  
   
“Cassss,” Dean whined.  
   
“Hm?” Castiel hummed, making Dean shiver all over.  
   
“Aw, so good,” Dean moaned, arching his back beautifully.  “I-I want you so bad!”  
   
“You what?” Castiel teased, licking again.    
   
“I wanna make you come,” Dean said low, in a disjointed voice.  “Wanna watch you.”  
   
Castiel grinned, licking harder with a loud moan.  “Stroke yourself, Dean.  Now.”  
   
Dean reached back, stroking his cock, his fingertips grazed the underside of Castiel’s chin, hesitating to feel along the scruff of his beard, feeling him work his tongue as Castiel continued to eat him out.  
   
Dean stroked several times.  Dean wanted to see him.  Wanted to please him.  He was so good at this.  Such a good sub.  
   
Dean’s thighs started to shake.  “Fuck,” he whined, dropping down to his shoulder, making Castiel lick even deeper.  Harder.  “Oh God!” Dean moaned, rocking with a cry as his arm moved faster.  Castiel kneaded the inside of one thigh with one hand and his cheeks with the other.  Dean was shaking hard, moaning, shoving his hole for him to spear his tongue inside.  Cas gripped him around the waist as his legs shook, delving as deep as he could go, listening as Dean cried out in tortured pleasure.  
   
“Cas!” Dean gasped, jolting, stiffening, arm working harder.  
   
Castiel pulled back, dragging his stubbled chin over a pink spot on Dean’s cheek.  “Come, Dean.”  
   
The first word was barely spoken when Dean froze for a second and then immediately exploded into action as Cas dove back to his hole, swirling and licking.  He marveled at how his muscles quaked and how he could hear cum hit the duvet, and how Dean’s entire body arched and rocked.  
   
Dean crumbled in his arms, gasping for breath and seeking, to Castiel’s surprise, a hug.  Castiel, still sitting back on his heels, held him, kissing his neck, his jaw, his mouth, murmuring how wonderful he was.  How much he loved him.  Dean, hungry for the affection, which melted Castiel’s heart, held onto him, catching his breath.  His hands swept down Castiel’s back, latching onto his hips.  
   
Dean pulled back, looking down at his very hard dick.  His eyes met his with an open-mouthed smile.  “I wanna suck your dick.  I wanna watch you come.”  
   
Castiel nodded, already so close and so enamored with Dean.    
   
“Right there,” Dean said quietly, holding Castiel’s hips to where they were.  
   
“You want me to stay here?” Castiel grinned down at him as his head quickly slid down his chest and abdomen.  Dean slid down to his belly, up on his elbows, swallowing Castiel so suddenly it made him rock forward, steadying himself on Dean’s shoulder.  
   
Sinful.  
   
Dean’s mouth was fucking sinful.  
   
His head dropped back as his entire body jolted with pleasure.  His head rolled until he was looking down, watching Dean work so intently on his dick.  So many dirty images and words brooked the edge of Castiel’s mind.  
   
“You’re so good at that,” he allowed, earning Dean’s eyes looking up at him as his tongue slid along his shaft.    
   
“You like sucking my dick,” Castiel grinned down at him.  
   
“Yes,” Dean whispered along his wet, silky skin.  
   
Castiel threaded his fingers into Dean’s hair, pressing his head forward, onto his dick.  Dean groaned in pleasure.  
   
Castiel huffed, gripping Dean’s hair harder.  He steered Dean’s head, feeling his body loosen, giving him the power to set speed and depth.  Fuck.  Dean was so fucking perfect.  
   
The allowance of control loosed Castiel’s tongue.  “You have such a good mouth.  So perfect.  Now, let me feel that throat.”  
   
Dean moaned around him, letting Castiel work his way back, sliding deeper with each slow press until Dean’s nose met his skin.  Something so profound clicked inside him, seeing Dean like that.  His body being used with such trust and freedom.  
   
Castiel’s hands shook as he let go of Dean’s head.  “So close, Dean.  Finish me.”  
   
Dean went to work, Cas shattering into an orgasm that had him gasping for air.  He teetered, rocking back and trying hard to watch the beautiful sight of Dean milking him dry, cum dripping off his chin.  
   
They both panted, Castiel reeling in bliss.  He gripped Dean by his shoulders, pulling him up to kiss him.  It was dirty and sensual and Castiel never wanted to let him go.  They collapsed into the bed, tangled in each other’s arms and legs.  
   
“That was so good,” Dean murmured, voice wrecked.  
   
“So good,” Castiel sighed, hugging Dean to him, peppering him with kisses.  “I love you, my brat.”  
   
Dean huffed a laugh.  “I love you too.”    
   
They slept deeply, each as sated as the other.  
   
 


	19. Mending Porches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Thank you all for joining this rollercoaster with me! Thank you Shellz for keeping the facts straight and making this shine!
> 
> Summer is coming. The boys have settled into comfortable lives together.

Chapter 19: Mending Porches  
   
   
   
Sam exited out of his account, having submitted the last of his paperwork for the school year.  May was over and his summer vacation started tomorrow.  He packed his book bag with the last few things he wanted to have over the summer.  It had been an unbelievable school year.  The students were gone, today only being for staff.    
   
A knock on his door startled him more than it should.  His head jerked up as his heart kick-started into a patter as he saw Castiel stroll into his room.  
   
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, recognizing his reaction.  
   
Sam grinned, taking a deep breath.  “Hey!  You all wrapped up for the year?”  
   
Castiel sat on the corner of the student desk in front of his large wooden desk.  “Yes.  I must say, I’m ready for this year to be over.”  
   
Sam nodded, pushing a mug into his bag.  “Yeah.  It certainly had its moments.”  
   
Castiel looked down at his hands.  A few ticks of the clock passed before he spoke.  “How is Gabriel?”  
   
Sam sat down in his chair.  “Pretty good.  He’s been baking experimentally again.  That’s a good sign.”  
   
Castiel looked up, grinning.  “Yes, it is.  He used to do that a lot.  One time, when we were in high school, he chopped up candy canes and baked them into cookies.  Mom broke a tooth on one of them.”  He huffed a laugh at the memory.  “He lost oven privileges for a month.”  
   
Sam chuckled.  Only Gabe could get grounded because of an oven.    
   
“And you?”  Castiel’s grin settled into an open, patient look.  
   
Like a changing breeze, Sam’s grin slid away.  “Yeah.  I’m good, Cas.”  
   
Castiel’s chin lowered a fraction, his eyes drilling into Sam.  
   
He sighed.  “I’m good.  Good enough.”  
   
Castiel nodded sadly.    
   
“How ‘bout you?” Sam pushed back, digging as his friend did all too well.  
   
“Good.”  He grinned, glancing out the window then back to him.  “Dean finished the last of his re-writes.  The wendigo book should be going to press within the month.  He’s relieved.  I’m relieved.”  
   
Sam nodded.  
   
Castiel stood up.  “Shall we go?”  
   
Sam stood, closing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder.  He took one last look at his classroom, flipping the light off as they left.  They went down the stairs, stopping in Castiel’s room to pick up his things.  He grabbed his bag.  Castiel hesitated a step, sitting on the corner of his desk.  He looked full of thought and Sam knew he was about to hear it.  
   
He widened his stance, watching his friend.  He waited, time ticking steadily by.  
   
“Have you...considered getting married?”  
   
Sam choked a laugh, stepping back in shock.  “What?  Why?”  
   
Castiel chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.  “You and Gabe seem to be doing well.  As well as Dean and I.”  
   
Sam’s thoughts shifted gear.  “Wait...are you thinking about getting married?”  
   
“Every day since Dean broke into my house,” Castiel answered easily.  
   
Sam guffawed.  
   
“With your blessing, that is.”  
   
“Oh wow,” Sam pushed his hair back.  His dad should be having this conversation.  He rubbed his hand down over his mouth.  “You...”. He grinned.  There was no one he would rather his brother married.  “Yeah, Cas.  I think that would be...wonderful.”  
   
Castiel broke into a brilliant smile.  “And you have my blessing as well.  When you’re ready.”  
   
Sam stepped back again, pacing a small circle before coming to stand in front of him again.  “Your blessing.”  
   
Castiel shrugged.  “There is no one I would be more proud to call family than you.”  
   
Sam clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling tears prickle his eyes.  “I...I would...but...”. His heart broke, like it did every time he thought about such a thing.  “I wasn’t there when he needed me most,” he admitted in a broken rush.  
   
Castiel was on his feet now, grin gone.  “You cannot believe that.  Truly.  We aren’t with them right now.”  
   
Sam nodded, his hand feeling for his phone in his pocket, knowing Gabe’s tracking location would tell him exactly where he was.  He had checked it less than half an hour ago.  
   
“And I was right beside Dean when he was stabbed, Sam.  Sometimes.”  He cleared the tremor from his voice.  “Sometimes things happen that are out of our control.  You have been there for him every day.  Do not let punishing yourself punish my brother.”  
   
Sam frowned hard.  Is that what he was doing?  Punishing himself?  We’ve only been dating for...it’ll be a year next month.  It’s not like I’m...”. What was he doing?  What was he waiting for?  A date?  A number?  Permission?  Forgiveness?  He had the last two.  
   
Castiel relaxed, his stern demeanor easing.  “I guess I’ll just beat you to the punch.”  
   
Sam laughed short.  “Again.”  
   
Castiel gave him a questioning look.  “You two moved in first.  You were throwing around the L word within days of knowing each other.”  It was his turn to grin.  “I’m surprised it has taken you so long to ask him to marry you.”  
   
“Well,” Castiel gave him a mischievous grin.  “I bought the ring in November.”  
   
Sam laughed.  “Of course you did!”  
   
“But I feel the time has come.  He is, we are, much happier and healthier than we were.”  
   
Sam shook his head.  “So, what’s the plan?  You gonna ask him tonight?”  
   
“It’s funny you should mention that.  I was thinking about a little game.  Dean and Gabe are always the clever ones, pulling pranks and tricking the two of us.  I say we give them a taste of their own medicine.”  
   
Sam grinned.  “We?”  
   
Castiel shrugged, putting his bag on his shoulder and getting to his feet.  “You can help me.  Or...we can help each other.”  
   
Sam bit his lip.  “Gabe does love surprises.”  
   
   
   
********************************************************  
   
   
Dean, freshly showered and dressed, sat his suitcase by the door.  He stepped out to the front porch with two glasses of iced tea.  It was warm.  He grinned at the porch.  It looked brand new, being recently sanded and painted, a few problem spots replaced.  He had torn out the overgrown bushes that crowded and clawed the edges of it.  He replaced the trim around the bottom, cleaning out some frightening nests from underneath.  
   
A wrought iron table and two chairs had been buried in the basement under a bunch of junk and debris.  He had sanded and painted that as well.  It sat to the left of the front door with a potted plant that was alive and blooming.  He sat Cas’ tea on the table and sat down to sip his.  The yard looked so much better.  He and Benny had spent three days trimming back hedges.  They were a bit on the stumpy side right now, but they were already blooming.  The lawn looked patchy with freshly seeded spots covered with straw.  He eyed the gate, stuck, frozen in time.  He wondered who the last person was that swung it freely.  What family had run through it, swinging it wide, never thinking a thing of it.  His world refocused at the sight of Cas standing in it.  
   
He side-stepped the rusted gate, coming up the sidewalk, waving goodbye to Sam.  Dean looked over, waving to his brother.  
   
Cas came up the steps, sighing as he sat his case down.  “Hello, Dean.”  
   
Dean sat back in his chair, adjusting himself in his jeans.  “Were you a good boy at school today?”  
   
Castiel leaned down, kissing him.  He pulled back with a smirk.  “I was.  Were you a good boy at home today?”  
   
Dean smirked back.  Snatching Cas’ tie, pulling him down for another kiss.  They parted with a grin, Cas taking the other seat.  He took a long drink of tea, looking over the front yard with a prideful grin.  
   
“This place is looking beautiful.  Thank you, Dean.”  
   
Dean grinned, staring at the gate again.  “Of course.  I told you it would look good.  And when my wendigo book money starts rolling in, I’m replacing the rest of the windows.”  
   
That earned him a grin.    
   
The pair sighed in relaxation, enjoying the neighborhood for a few moments while they sipped tea.  
   
“Are you packed?”  
   
“Yep,” Dean answered.    
   
Cas sighed again, giving Dean a penetrative look.  They were taking a trip with Chuck, Gabe, and Sam.  They were in talks about writing a book.  The agreement so far, was that Chuck would write the book, so Dean didn’t have to spend so much time thinking about it.  This trip was to go see the house where they had been held.    
   
It was, as Castiel would put it, unpleasant.  
   
They loaded the car, picked up the other three and headed out of town.  They stayed at a cheap motel and ate dinner food.  Dr. Duma thought the trip would be cathartic, so they all were willing to give it a try.  
   
When Dean pulled up in front of the house, all five sat there staring at it for a few moments.  It was built in the 80’s and looked quite nondescript.  There were neighbors.  It was a typical suburban home.  
   
Dean licked his lips, staring at the basic, square windows and plain front yard.  It looked exactly like most of its neighbors.  
   
“Isn’t it weird how the typical looking house is the one hiding horrors, when a house as creepy looking as Cas’ was, was just a house getting old.” Dean blew a breath out, realizing just how ironic it was.

Chuck, crammed in the back seat, started taking notes.

Cas stared at the house in disgust. “And all the training I had done, didn’t really help. Gabe saved us all with a text.”

Dean gave his boyfriend a firm look. “No one was getting past those guns, Cas. Martial arts or not, they would have killed you. Or me.”  
   
Cas nodded, having heard this many times.  “I can’t believe how close we were to the neighbors.”  
   
Gabe stared, not showing much in way of emotion, but Dean noticed how he clung to Sam’s hand.  
   
“This is it?” Sam asked, never having seen the place.  “It’s so...ordinary.”  
   
Henriksen pulled up in an unmarked police car behind them.  
   
Dean blew out a breath.  This was the plan.  A quick walk through.  Then Chuck was interviewing Henriksen.    
   
“You don’t have to go in,” he heard Sam say quietly to Gabe.  
   
Gabe nodded, staying silent.  
   
Dean gave Cas a look, conveying the same message.  Cas’ mouth tipped up a touch, saying he understood, but he was going.    
   
Cas turned around, looking at his brother.  “I think you should come in with us.  We won’t stay long.  And remember, it’s just a house.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  
   
Dean got out, coming around the front of the car to shake Henriksen’s hand as the others, including Gabe, got out.  
   
“Thanks for meeting us here,” he said solemnly.  
   
“No problem.  This isn’t too far from where I work.  And it gives me a chance to wrap things up with the local police,” he answered.  
   
Dean didn’t ask how the other investigation was going.  The one time he asked Jody if they were any closer to figuring out who had killed Nick, Lu, and Teddy, she simply stated that they had no idea who did it.  The whole country had villainized the men who had abducted them.  It was just too hard to narrow down and there just wasn’t any evidence of who may have been involved.  Dean took the cops looking the other way for the gift it was and never asked again.  When the body of Jack’s mother had been found, it only added another nail to the coffin of the abductors.  She had said, “Sometimes these things just go unsolved,” with a dismissive shrug.  Whatever part Crowley, Michael, and Raphael had played, they had done their parts to give the police nothing to go on.  
   
Agent Henriksen greeted the others.  
   
None of them had seen the house before as they were in the trunk of a car or blindfolded.  Anna, who had not been conscious when she was brought in, had no wish to see the place again.  Since she was progressing well with therapy, Dr. Duma said she needed the closure least of all of them.  At this point, Dean didn’t feel he needed it much as well.  But Gabe did.  So they were all here to support him more than anyone.  
   
Henriksen led them to the front door, cutting the paper taped over the door marking the house as ‘Do Not Enter’ and ‘Crime Scene’, and unlocked it.  He had gotten permission (and keys) from the local police.  The investigation was now closed.  
   
“The sheriff said the place has been cleaned out already.  It was put on the market just a few days ago.”  He opened the door and they slowly filed inside.  
   
There was no trash or furniture.  Just stained carpet and walls, half broken blinds on the windows and a smell of stale trash lingering in the air.  
   
Dean’s stomach rolled.  
   
“Do any of you remember this room?” Chuck asked gently, phone recording.  
   
“No,” he and Cas murmured.  
   
Gabe didn’t say anything.  He just stared around with a haunted expression, clinging to Sam’s hand and looking a little pale.  
   
“I passed out as soon as the medics got here,” Cas said faintly, staring around.  “All I ever saw was the basement.”  
   
Dean put his arm around Cas.    
   
Henriksen stepped past them, into a short hallway.  The group followed him, looking around at the kitchen, bedrooms, and bathroom with mild detachment.  It just looked dirty.  They could only guess how Jack, his mother, then Nick, Teddy, and Lu lived and slept here.  
   
As they came back into the hall, Henriksen opened the door to the basement.  He flipped the light on, and Gabe jerked.  Dean swallowed hard, remembering that sound very clearly.    
   
“The basement was cleaned out as well, but I will warn you, there are still stains on the floor.  So, if that’s going to bother you, you might not want to go down.”  
   
They all nodded.    
   
Gabe let go of Sam’s hand and marched down the steps.  Sam, Dean, and Cas exchanged surprised looks, following him.  
   
It was so much smaller than what Dean had remembered.  Cinderblock walls, cement floor, exposed subfloor and footers making the ceiling.  
   
Gabe went to the corner where his cage had been, walking around in a small circle.  He stared at the wall where all the papers had been.    
   
“That Jack kid...” Gabe began, staring all around, “I thought he might kill me.  He looked like someone forgot to issue him a soul.”  
   
Dean nodded.  He found himself standing where his chair had been, easily marked by bloodstains on the floor.  “When you got out, I hoped you got all the way out.  Ran.  When you came back down those steps, I thought for sure we were all dead.  Like there was nowhere to run to.”  
   
Gabe nodded.  “I was afraid to leave.  Had I known there were neighbors all around, I would have run for help.  But the windows were all blocked. I just...couldn’t leave. I couldn’t survive if the rest of you were killed because I ran.” He shook his head, glaring at the walls.  
   
“It was a wonder any of you survived,” Sam said bitterly, staring around with a glare of pure hatred.  “Those fuckers.”  
   
Dean looked up as Cas looked at him from where his chair had been.  It was strange that they all went back to the places they had been.  
   
Chuck asked a few questions, clarifying how they had been sitting and where Gabe’s cage had been.  
   
Gabe stared up the steps. “The house was gross.  Like it had been okay when Jack and his mom lived here but when the other three came, they just left trash everywhere.  I crawled into the living room and found mail with the address.”  
   
They all knew the story by now but recalling their memories as they stood in the very spot they had been, made Dean’s skin crawl.  
   
He looked up as Cas went to Gabe, hugging him.  Gabe sighed, slumping onto his brother’s shoulder.  Sam hugged him from the other side, sandwiching him for a moment.  
   
Gabe opened his eyes, looking at Dean.  
   
Well, shit.  
   
Dean crossed the tiny space, and joined in.  Gabe grinned as Dean closed in on the group, laying his head right on Gabe’s.  He only stayed for a few seconds and backed out, the other three parting as well.  
   
Gabe stood with his hands on his hips.  “Let’s blow this taco stand.”  
   
And that was that.  They left, leaving the plain house in the dust.    
   
   
*************************************************  
   
   
   
July was hot.  The air was stifling with little breeze.    
   
Dean came downstairs, sitting on the new couch he and Cas had purchased.  Their living room was finally a living room.  He put his shoes on, looking toward the front door as Crowley strode in like he owned the place.  
   
“Squirrel!”  
   
Dean smirked.  “What are you doing here?”  
   
“It’s delivery day!”  He sat a box on the large ottoman.  
   
Dean stood up with a grin.  “Already?  Damn.  They really pushed the printing on this one!”  
   
“On the shelves mid-summer!”  Crowley opened the box with a flourish, handing Dean a copy.  
   
Dean took it, his grin sliding to a look of awe.  His eyes raised to Crowley.  “This isn’t the cover you showed me.”  
   
Crowley shrugged with a smirk.  “I may have had another thought in mind for it.”  
   
Dean ran his hand over the cover.  The title, ‘Blackwater Ridge’, and his name, Dean Smith, were the font and look he recalled.  What shocked him was the group of characters on the cover.  The main characters, a guy and his girlfriend looking into the woods with worried faces, were supposed to be the only two on the cover.  Beside the pair was none other than Meg.  And next to her, her savior, a hunter who showed up late in the game to save her.  He looked exactly like Bobby, right down to his trucker hat and that damn vest he always wore.  
   
He looked up at Crowley.  “That’s Bobby!”  
   
Crowley grinned.  
   
“You...” his eyes were drawn back to the two side characters who outlived them all in the end.  His eyes watered, threatening to let loose a torrent of emotions.  He flipped the book over, choking back a sob.  His regular black and white author pic had been reprised to a photo Jo had taken of Dean and Bobby deep in lore in Bobby’s study.  He wiped the stream of tears away, nodding.  “Fuck, Crowley.  This is...perfect.”  
   
“I’m glad you approve.”  
   
Dean took a shaky, deep breath, studying the cover again.   “It’s perfect.”  
   
He opened the cover to the dedication page.  His first book had been dedicated to his mom.  The second to his dad.  The third to Sam.  This one read, ‘For Bobby’.  
   
He closed the book, Dean touching it to his forehead.  “We finished it, Bobby.”  
   
Crowley pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses from the box.  It was their tradition.  Dean took another steadying breath as he laid the book on the table.  “Thank you, Crowley.”  
   
Crowley handed him a glass, clinking the two together.  “My pleasure.”  
   
Dean swallowed the amber liquid with a wince, handing the glass back.  “Apple juice?  Really?”  
   
Crowley packed the glasses and bottle away in his own bag.  “I like you sober, Dean.  Coupled with your angel-boy, you are downright respectable.”    
   
Dean shook his head with a grin.  He couldn’t care less if he had liquor again.  
   
Crowley shoved his hands in his suit pockets, giving Dean a measuring look.  “I don’t think I’ve ever really told you just how proud of you I am.”  
   
Dean huffed a breath.  “You out ta make me cry today?”  
   
“It’s true,” Crowley went on.  “My friends are few, Dean.  My heroes even fewer.”  
   
“Come on,” Dean shook his head, stepping back.  
   
“Dean,” Crowley stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.  “I meant what I told you.  You have a gift.  This book is great.  YOU are great.”  
   
Dean was overloaded.  Cas had been up and out the door early this morning, almost seeming like he needed space to himself today.  It was unusual and had left him feeling unsettled.  Crowley showing up a week early with his book and all the surprises with it, had him completely frazzled.  
   
“I’m not great,” Dean managed, not meeting Crowley’s eyes.  “I’m surrounded by great people.  Guess I’m a product of my environment.”  
   
Crowley grinned, nodding.  “Good enough, I suppose.”  
   
“The cover is...awesome.”  
   
“What’ll be awesome is when I make the cover of one!”  He struck a menacing, yet smug pose.  “What do you think?  Vampire?”  
   
Dean laughed.  “King of something rotten!”  
   
They both laughed, hugging.  “Couldn’t have done it without you.  Thanks.”  
   
“Anytime and every time,” Crowley promised.  
   
Crowley stepped back, pulling an envelope out of his pocket, checking his watch.  “Here.  This is for you.”  
   
He gave Dean one last look, then strolled out the door, leaving him standing there.  Dean looked down at the blank, white envelope.  
   
What a weird day.  
   
He opened it, pulling out a paper.  Cas’ familiar and beautiful handwriting met his eyes, making him smile immediately.  
   
I sent you something.  
   
That was all it said.  He turned the paper over, completely confused.  
   
Gabe walked in the door, sitting a box on the floor in the foyer.  “Hey.”  
   
Dean looked down at the paper again.  Huh.  He looked up at Gabe.  “Hey.”  
   
“So...Sam asked me to bring this in and give it to you.”  
   
Dean walked over to the large brown box.  “Well, that’s not suspicious.”  He handed the note to Gabe.  “Crowley just gave me this.”  
   
Gabe took the note, frowning at it.  He looked out the door, stepping out onto the porch.  “He just took off!”  
   
Dean looked over his shoulder, seeing Sam’s taillights headed down the street. Crowley was gone as well.  
   
“What the hell?” They both muttered.  
   
They stepped into the foyer, staring down at the box.  
   
“What’s in the box?!” Dean quoted from the movie ‘Seven’.  
   
“No idea.  Sam’s been acting really weird though.”  
   
Dean studied his friend.  “Cas too.”  
   
Gabe shrugged.  “Open it.”  
   
Dean pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket and cut the tape, opening the box.  Inside were two boxes.  One labeled ‘food drive’ and the other labeled ‘clothing drive’.  
   
Dean stood up.  “This is stuff for Cas’ donation drive.  But it’s supposed to go to the shelter, not here.”  
   
Dean and Gabe gave each other a confused look.  They both pulled their phones out, calling their boyfriends.  Neither answered.  Cas responded with a group text to Gabe and Dean.    
   
Cas - Sam and I are out collecting for the summer shelter-drive.  Could you and Gabe stop a few places for us?  
   
A list of names was sent next.  Followed with a ‘thanks!’  
   
“Are you kidding me?” Dean groused.    
   
He grabbed a few books from the box on the table and his keys.    
   
“Are we doing this?” Gabe asked, looking down at the box that was big enough to fit a microwave in.  
   
“Why not?  You got better plans today?”  
   
Gabe frowned down at the box.  “No fair.  I can’t complain about charity work.”  
   
Dean picked up one box.  It was slightly heavy.  “Oh come on, Gabe.  Might as well get this done.”  
   
Gabe blew a breath out.  “Alright.”  He grabbed his box, following Dean out the door.  “Why are we dating such do-gooders?”  
   
Dean chuckled.  “Balances out our shitty attitudes.”  
   
Gabe nodded in consent.  “Ah.  All makes sense now.”  
   
All Dean was banking on was that Cas owed him tonight for all his good work.  That was enough to put a spring in his step and half a grin on his face.  
   
Loaded into Baby, Dean stopped at Jim Murphy’s house first.  The retired teacher was sitting on his porch with his wife, enjoying the morning.  He took the copy of his new book, telling him again how proud he was and how he always knew he’d do great things.  Dean took the compliment the best he could.  He had made it a point to visit the guy several times over the spring, touching base with the mentor who had given him a great foundation to start writing.  His wife brought out two boxes, one labeled food and the other labeled clothes.  
   
They thanked the couple and went to several other houses, including Kevin’s, Claire’s, Chuck’s, Anna’s, and finally they went to the bakery, where a donation box had been collecting odds and ends for the past month.  
   
And to grab a cup of coffee.  
   
“You’ve been busy,” Balthazar noted, earning a grin from Dean when he slid him a piece of pie.  
   
“My car is full of boxes,” Dean said irritably in response.  
   
“And I’m at work on my day off,” Gabe added, annoyed.  
   
“Come on, you always have time for a cup of joe with little ole me,” Balthazar grinned.  
   
The pair shrugged.  Dean devoured his pie in four ridiculous bites.  “Come on.  Let’s drop this stuff off at the shelter and find our boyfriends.”  
   
Gabe followed along, waving goodbye to his cousin.  
   
“Don’t suppose you and Cassie can fit a nice pool into your manicured yard, could ya?” Gabe said, getting in the passenger seat.  “Or spring for some air conditioning in this penis-wagon.”  
   
Dean scowled at him, putting his hands over the dash board as if he were covering Baby’s ears.  “This beauty is a she, thank you very much.”  
   
“She needs a fucking air conditioner,” Gabe griped.  
   
“Ignore the little man, Baby.  He’s rude and ignorant.”  
   
Gabe laughed, wiping off his brow.  
   
They pulled into the shelter’s side door, Cas’ friend Inias coming to greet them.  
   
“Afternoon!”  
   
“Hi,” they both greeted him back.  “We have donations for you,” Dean added, opening his back door.  
   
“Sorry guys,” the man smiled apologetically.  “We got so many donations, we’re sending these over to your place for storage.”  
   
Dean stifled an irritated sigh.  “I don’t think so.”  
   
“No, really.  Castiel said you wouldn’t mind storing them.”  
   
The pair eyed each other.  Dean tamped down his irritation.    
   
The shit he did for Cas.  
   
Dean closed the door a bit more harshly than necessary.  “Nice.”  
   
They drove back to the house, Dean inching along the curb to a stop.  Both men stared at the house.  
   
Cas and Sam stood on the front porch in suits.  Anna sat next to them, Benny by her side.  
   
“What’s going on?” Gabe demanded, his head whipping around to stare at Dean.  
   
“No fucking clue.”  
   
Gabe stared back at the house.  
   
“Are you in on this?” Dean demanded back.  
   
“I don’t know what THIS is!”  Gabe raised a shaky hand to his mouth.  “Is he...”  
   
Dean was wondering the same damn thing.  Only one thing would draw a crowd like this.  On the steps stood Crowley, Jody, Donna, and Balthazar.  And...  
   
“Oh shit!”  
   
Jo and Ellen were sitting on the chairs on the porch.  
   
Gabe grabbed Dean’s forearm, still staring at the awaiting crowd.  “Somebody is getting engaged!”  
   
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinkin’!” Dean sucked in a breath.  
   
Gabe turned to him, his eyes wide.  “Me?  You?  What the hell’s going on?”  
   
Dean stifled a laugh of nervous shock.  “I don’t know, man!  Let’s go find out!”  
   
“Is it me?  Or you?” Gabe gasped.  
   
“It could be me!  Or you!  I don’t fucking know!” Dean laughed.  
   
They got out of the car, eyes locked on their boyfriends.  There were others standing in the yard, neighbors, all the ones they had collected donations from, more students of Sam and Cas.  
   
Dean was sure this was for him.  Cas looked excited and nervous.  And there is no way in hell Sam would propose to Gabe without telling him first.  
   
He pushed against the gate, automatically stepping around its stubborn hold, but it swung open easily.  Dean looked down at it in shock.  It squeaked but swung open.  He looked up at the pair in suits, his mouth hanging open at the simple marvel and odd welcome the house itself seemed to give him.  
   
Sam grinned wide, pulling a screwdriver and can of WD40 out of his pocket.  
   
Dean laughed.  Of all the things for Sam to pitch in with, it would be the one that tugged at his heartstrings.    
   
He bit his lip, fighting the tremor that threatened his jaw.  
   
As if a rope drew him forward, he found himself climbing the steps, stopping at the top step in front of Cas.  
   
“Hey Cas,” he stammered.  
   
“Hello, Dean.”  
   
Gabe stepped up next to him, eyes wide and pinned to Sam.  
   
“Sam, baby, what’s going on?”  
   
Sam grinned, his chin wobbling slightly as he licked his lips.  “Gabe, we...”  
   
Gabe and Dean exchanged a look.  So, the proposal was for Gabe.  
   
Dean turned to watch, fighting the disappointment that squeezed his heart.  
   
“We have,” Sam fought back tears, trying to continue, “been through a lot.  And I can’t imagine having anyone else by my side.”  
   
A tear ran down Gabe’s cheek.  
   
Sam knelt down on one knee, pulling out a ring box.  
   
Gabe stifled a cry, both hands covering his mouth.  
   
Dean bit his lip, shocked at how the sight of the box made what he had guessed a shocking reality.  Holy shit.  His baby brother was getting married!  
   
“I promise to be all you need and more,” Sam said tenderly.  “To always taste your experiments, even when I’m pretty sure I’ll regret it.”  The pair chuckled and Dean could hear a few chuckles from around them.  “I promise to hold you tight through the good times and the bad times.  To love you forever.  Just the way you are.”  
   
Sam opened the box.  
   
Gabe was already nodding yes, making Sam laugh through his tears as he went on.  “Gabe, will you marry me?”  
   
“Yes,” he managed, hugging Sam, burying his face in Sam’s neck until he could pull back and kiss him.  
   
Sam stood, pulling Gabe right off his feet, kissing him.  The crowd around them clapped and cheered.  Dean looked up at Cas, who was grinning so brilliantly that it made his heart ache.  Cas glanced down at him with a wink, hugging Gabe as he plowed into him with all the excitement of a wild puppy.  
   
Dean huffed when he got the same hug next, squeezing Gabe tight, feeling him damn near vibrating in excitement.  He pulled back.  “It was me!  Were you in on this?”  
   
Dean’s brows shot up.  “No!  I was just as shocked as you were, man!”  
   
“Oh!”  Gabe stepped back suddenly as he looked at his brother.  
   
Dean followed the look, realizing Cas was on one knee with a ring box in his hand.  
   
“Oh no!” Dean gasped.  He had just talked himself into being good with this all being for Gabe!  He backed down two steps, both his hands going to his own head in shock.  
   
Cas.  On one knee.  His eyes brimming and his hands shaking.  
   
Dean had the notion to run from all the attention and shock.  But he froze, his hands coming back down, clasping together in front of his mouth.  
   
Silence reigned for a few seconds as they stared into each other’s eyes.  
   
“Dean.”  
   
Dean jolted with attention.  The way he did so many times when Cas said his name.  
   
“From the moment I met you, I knew you were something more than special.  In a matter of minutes I only wanted more of you.  In a matter of hours, I knew you were the one.  Mine.  My soulmate.”  
   
Dean could only stare, frozen on the edge of a moment that would transform his life from what he was, to what he would be.  
   
“I love you more every day.  Your beautiful mind.  Your messy clothes on the floor,” he winked, making Dean bite his lip and grin, “all your smiles.  Dean.”  
   
The very air between them paused.  Dean lowered his hands to his sides, stepping up one step.  
   
Cas looked down at the box, opening it.  He looked up at him through his lashes, his bravery faltering slightly, showing how vulnerable he was.  “Dean Winchester, will you marry me?”  
   
“Yeah, Cas.  Yes.”  He kissed him hard, gasping and kissing him again, having him in his arms again after going through a lifetime of not having him by his side.  “You’re mine,” he whispered, just as desperate as Cas, kissing him again.  “I love you!”  
   
Cas hugged him tight, a long, slow breath deflating his stressed body.    
   
Dean pulled back, staring at him again.  Castiel.  His.  Forever.  
   
“Do you want the ring too?” Cas chuckled, still holding the box.  
   
Dean laughed, taking the ring out and sliding it on his finger.  “Yeah I want the ring!  I want it all!”  He kissed Cas and stepped back throwing both arms in the air in victory.  “Yeah!” He yelled, realizing everyone was clapping and cheering them on.  He thought loud and proud, take that universe!  No matter what was thrown at him, he had ended up here.  Right here.  
   
He hugged Cas again, kissing him one more time before turning to Gabe, hugging him.  They both laughed, swearing neither of them knew this was coming.  
   
Dean finally made it to the porch, hugging Sam and only mildly giving him hell for not warning him.  
   
After hugging the whole freaking neighborhood and half the state, they finally settled into a huddle on the porch.  Everyone was milling around the front yard with glasses of lemonade or champagne.    
   
“What was with all the damn charity drive collections?” Gabe asked, still securely attached to Sam’s side.  
   
“Oh,” Sam grinned.  “That was to keep you busy.”  
   
“And to prepare you for your second surprise,” Cas added.  
   
“I can’t take any more!” Dean groaned, seriously wondering how he could steal Cas and disappear inside.  
   
Jo laughed, nudging Anna’s arm.  “This’ll be good.”  
   
“So, the boxes are actually all our luggage,” Sam explained, barely containing a huge grin.  
   
“Luggage?” Gabe asked.  “For?”  
   
“We’re leaving,” Cas announced, adorable grin and sparkling eyes.  
   
“For where?” Dean asked suspiciously.  
   
“For what?” Gabe asked, just as thrown as Dean.  
   
“For the beach,” Sam and Cas answered together.  
   
“What?” Dean and Gabe chimed back.  
   
Dean turned to look at his car.  Mrs. Tran was directing people to open boxes.  Dean was shocked to see his own luggage being packed into the trunk of his own car by students.  
   
“The beach?” Dean asked in shock.  
   
“Yes, Dean.  It’s called vacation,” Sam said, being the smart-ass he was.  
   
Dean threw his hands up.  “I’m going to the beach?”  
   
“Yes, you are,” Cas grinned, kissing him firmly then directing him toward the car.  “Right now.  The four of us are driving to the beach for a week so we can plan our weddings and have very separate rooms to do very fiancé-like things.”  
   
“Goodbye!” His friends and family started saying, waving him down the sidewalk.  
   
“Today?  Now?” Gabe could hardly believe what was happening.  
   
“Right now,” Sam laughed, directing him to the car.  Sam turned to the crowd.  “Thank you everyone!”  
   
Their friends waved goodbye, Anna waiting at the car for them to get the last hug before they pulled away.  
   
Dean swung the gate open with the biggest grin he might ever have had.    
   
Every town has one.  That house that everyone wants to stop in and say hello.  The porch that the neighbors wave to.  The walls that bear the memories of love and adventure.  Of lives filled to the brim with joy.  Every town has one.    
   
Dean just couldn’t believe it was his.  
   
   
A very fluffy THE END!


End file.
